


Mission Baby

by that_one_the_grandniece_there



Category: Naruto
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Families of Choice, Family, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-12 01:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 59,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10479075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_the_grandniece_there/pseuds/that_one_the_grandniece_there
Summary: Summary: Unbeknownst to most, Iruka was in fact a prankster long before the Kyuubi attack. It’s just that, before the Uchiha massacre, it was the Konoha military police that dealt with him, rather than the Hokage. After spending quite a lot of time in ‘time-out’ at the complex, a pre-genin Iruka becomes fast friends with a certain prodigy and his cousin. Years later, his closest friends ask him a big favour. Only, Iruka may need to suck it up and ask. . . . Kakashi, of all people—for his help. Eventual YAOI.Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Kishimoto-Ojiisan has that honour. I make no money from writing fanfiction (unfortunately).





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, Kishimoto-Ojiisan has that honour. I make no money from writing fanfiction (unfortunately).

 

**Chapter One: You’re Under Arrest. . . . Sort Of**

He whistled and waited for the echoes to come back to him. The pre-genin knew he was in trouble when he located a familiar chakra signature closing in on his five o’clock. The adults, he could handle. . . . but even though the chuunin approaching was a year his junior—he was definitely more dangerous to him. The pre-genin veered left, hoping against hope he could make it to the tree line. If he managed that, he might stand a chance—if he didn’t. . . . well, then it’d be easier for the chuunin to make those damn body flicker clones around him. Left again, right, over a hedge, left, and— _WALL! Oh, shit. Damnit!_

The brunet turned slowly, blowing out his breath slowly. “Well, you got me.”

The chuunin came to a halt a few feet away. He smiled. “Today.”

The brunet smiled back. “Yeah. Today.”

“Sorry, Iruka-kun, but you know that I have to take you in.”

The pre-genin grinned widely. “Yeah, but there’s still all the times you guys can’t catch me.”

The chuunin smiled back easily. “Not me. You only best the adults.”

Iruka nodded, then sighed and finally, shrugged. “So. . . . Am I under arrest?” He wiggled his eyebrows at the slightly younger boy, who shook his head good-naturedly.

“You will be the death of me, Iruka-kun.” Iruka offered up his wrists, an unrepentant grin plastered on his face. The chuunin continued, “I’m not going to tie you up, Iruka-kun.”

Iruka pouted. “Why not?”

“Because you’re not a dangerous criminal.” The chuunin paused as Iruka nudged him in the shoulder. Iruka winked, the chuunin sighing. “Maybe I should rethink that statement.”

Iruka slid his arm into the crook of the other’s elbow. He turned to smile at his friend. “You definitely should, Shisui-kun.”

“Okay, how is this: you are a _reasonably_ dangerous _brat_.” He mock-glared at his friend. Shisui, who graduated the Academy at seven, was a chuunin already at eight and though he was friendly and well-liked, he didn’t often have time to make or keep friendships—which is why he’d taken an immediate liking to the trouble-making Umino Iruka. Not many people were allowed to call an _Uchiha_ of all people ‘kun’ in public, but Shisui (as Iruka explained it) did not ‘ _have his fan up his ass_ ’ like the rest of the clan—Shisui had laughed at that declaration and had been Shisui-kun ever since.

The brunet, barely a year older than Shisui himself, was constantly on the run from the Konoha military police. A master prankster and the child of two respected jounin, it was the Uchihas’ duty as the military police to corral the boy, who, as a pre-genin, was definitely beyond the scope of the regular civilian police. Which meant that Shisui got to spend a lot of time with him—constantly the one to be assigned the difficult brunet over the last year as he had the best record of catching him—the adults just never understood the way Umino thought. Shisui, as a child himself, still had a more flexible mind and managed to catch him about fifty percent of the time, as compared to the grown-ups collective ten percent.

Out of curiosity, Shisui had once asked (before he had chased him for the first time) to see Iruka’s dossier. He had been presented with a folder only about two inches thick. When he had told his aunt, the desk sergeant, that he didn’t see the big deal about chasing the kid down if that was all the ‘master’ (and he had said it with air quotes, too) prankster had accomplished, the older Uchiha had grinned somewhat bitterly and then proceeded to pull out four more folders, each about twice the thickness of the first; while intoning, ‘We only have a ten percent catch rate of the brat—these are all of the _suspected_ cases of Umino-brand trouble.’ After the first chase, he had grown a far healthier respect for his pre-genin friend. Now, he looked forward to their chase games and easy banter. Shisui still had his friends from the Academy and his genin team, but found he spent far more time with Iruka nowadays.

He ‘frog-marched’ him back to the compound (really, it was more like a leisurely stroll with linked arms—but the grown-ups had ceased to care once they realised that Iruka didn’t mind being caught by their youngest operative) for his usual lecture and the customary holding period (about two hours—during which he and Shisui would use nin-sign-language to communicate from across the room, or less regularly, sneak off—which his mother allowed as long as ‘the offender’ didn’t leave the compound and wasn’t seen enjoying himself instead of being punished—civilians were nosy, in Shisui’s opinion, and Iruka-kun’s pranks were never mean. . . . just messy, or loud and always funny).

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            As the boys neared the main police building beside the Uchiha compound, they ran into a younger member of Shisui’s family—his cousin Itachi. Nine-year-old Iruka stopped in his tracks, pulling his friend up short beside him.

            “He’s so cute!” (Shisui rolled his eyes, both internally and externally—he swore—children would honestly be the death of his best friend—all you would have to do is throw cute kids at him and he’d be putty—Shisui swore the boy cooed at babies more than grown women did—it had actually helped distract Iruka enough once for the younger boy to catch him when the brunet had stopped to catch a civilian toddler’s fly-away balloon.) “Can I meet him?” Iruka was fairly vibrating in place.

            Shisui sighed. “I don’t know him that well myself, other than by reputation. He’s a prodigy.”

            “So are you,” Iruka replied, and then, “but you’re okay.” He winked. Shisui rolled his eyes again.

            “Is there something wrong with being a prodigy, Iruka-kun?”

            Iruka waved the comment off, crouching down in front of the younger child. “Hi!”

            Itachi blinked up at him owlishly. “Hello.”

            Iruka grinned. “I’m Iruka!”

            Itachi blinked again. He leaned around the loud brunet to ask his cousin, “Does your friend always speak in exclamations?”

            Iruka scrunched up his nose. “How old are you?” He began looking and poking around the younger boy, holding out one of his arms and then the other, then letting them go, as if assessing something.

            “Six years old.”

            Iruka clucked (like a mother hen, but Shisui wasn’t about to tell him that), “Well, are you broken or something, then?”

            Itachi stared at him, deadpan.

            Iruka poked him gently in the chest. “Kids are supposed to have fun, you know. You have the right to smile.”

            Itachi brushed some imaginary lint off his shirt. “I have a job to do.”

            Iruka cocked his head, a glint appearing in his eye that Shisui recognised all too well. He slumped in resignation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

**One year later. . . .**

            Though the Uchihas believed everything was better than okay (they had a particular talent for refusing to see or believe the truth. . . . or reason, for that matter), the Sandaime and his right hand man, the Yellow Flash, knew better. Sure, it _seemed_ as if Iruka was in less trouble nowadays—but that was definitely _not_ the case. He had just convinced his two best friends. . . . Who happened to be Uchihas, by the way—with friggin’ _Sharingans_ to be his lookouts. Reformed, Sandaime’s ass! (Though the Flash’s lovely young wife seemed to find them hilarious, particularly the Umino brat—she had recently found out his ‘suspected pranks’ folder, at a whopping 26.5 inches, was now a good twice the size of hers and it amazed her the Uchihas hadn’t gotten files of their own—they managed such stoic faces—and Mikoto was just happy that her eldest son had a loving pair of friends—the boy was rather solitary.)

            The Sandaime was, however, relieved at the Umino’s sense of all-encompassing acceptance and special brand of love when he found the youngster comforting his friend after the pursuit and consequent death of Shisui’s mother. He was also very pleased that the younger Uchiha prodigy seemed to emulate his older cousin, individually demonstrating pacifism and more compassion than any of their forefathers combined. So, begrudgingly (and against the civilian council’s wishes), he let the three be.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX


	2. No Matter What

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Kishimoto-Ojiisan has that honour. I make no money from writing fanfiction (unfortunately).  
> Chapter Two: No Matter What

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Six years later. . . .**

            Iruka knew their time was running short. They’d already lost Shisui—there was no way he was going to watch the baby of their little trio killed over Danzo’s shit-stirring. He hugged him tighter for a minute, wishing he could do more to comfort the blood-stained thirteen-year-old, then pushed him back slightly to look him directly in the eyes.

            “I love, you, you know.”

            Itachi shakily nods his head, though his eyes are downcast. Iruka pulls his chin up. “No matter what.”

            Itachi nods again. “I know, Nii-san.” Iruka nods. He leans in briefly to kiss Itachi on the forehead, then quickly flashes through the handseals for a henge.

            Itachi regards Iruka for a moment. Iruka, wearing Itachi’s face, smiles down on his friend. “I may not be as strong as you or Shisui-kun,” he stands up, “but I do know how to lead this village’s suckers on a damn merry chase.”

            Itachi allows the older boy to pull him up from the ground. “Run, Itachi. Stay safe.” Another quick hug.

            Itachi leans in and takes a deep breath, clutching the fabric of Iruka’s stiff flak-jacket. If he doesn’t die tonight, he’ll always remember the way Iruka smelled—like paper, sunlight, Earl Grey tea and comfort. As they pulled apart, the henged brunet slipped Itachi’s cloak off his shoulders and slid it over his own. “I’ll even smell like you,” he whispers with a smile.

The younger teen clamped down on his tears viciously. He was going to miss his make-shift brothers. . . . But for his littlest brother, for Konoha. . . . To stop a war. . . .This _had_ to be done. It was his job.

Itachi turned and ran as the last of his family (that didn’t hate him and want to kill him, at least) disappeared back towards the village to slow down the hunt for him—now officially an S-class nukenin.

When Anbu managed to drag ‘Itachi’ back to the tower a good thirty-six hours later (Iruka counted that as a new record—after all, they usually gave up after five or six when he was a kid—then again, he didn’t used to be disguised as a boy wanted for the murder of his clan—so the jounin and Anbu _had_ had better-than-usual motivation to actually catch him), the Sandaime took one look at the smug face and ordered Anbu to leave them—which, _very_ hesitantly, they obeyed.

He made a good pull on his pipe. “Itachi never makes that face.”

‘Itachi’ poofed into Iruka. “The Anbu couldn’t tell.”

The Sandaime placed his pipe on the desk. “You know Itachi well enough to fool most people. I am not most people, my boy. I am a Hokage. I have known you since you were little. You made sure the Anbu wouldn’t see you make that face, only me.”

Iruka shrugged. “My job was to give him time to get away. I don’t actually have a death wish today.”

Sandaime raised a questioning eyebrow. “Your job?”

Iruka nodded.

“I don’t recall giving you that order.”

Iruka held the Sandaime’s steady gaze, unwavering in his conviction. He refused to answer directly, so instead, “It was Danzo’s doing, not Itachi’s fault.”

Sandaime sighed. “I know, my boy. But sometimes, even my hands are tied.”

“So,” Iruka jutted his chin out defiantly, “Are you going to turn me in, _sir_? For aiding and abetting a nukenin?”

Sandaime scrubbed at his face. “You’re lucky that they didn’t recognise you.”

Iruka blinked. “You’re letting me go?”

A long, deep, drawn out sigh. “For aiding and abetting. . . . A brother. Though not an innocent one, at that, at least in the right in this situation. How can I punish you? You did the best thing I could ask of a man.”

“But not of a shinobi,” Iruka quietly pointed out.

“You are a man who would do anything for a child—especially one you have watched and helped to grow. I think we already had a similar conversation after that rather disastrous mission, no? I must discipline a soldier, but I want you to know that I have never been disappointed in you as a person.”

Iruka slowly made his way over to the window. He looked back at the suddenly very old and frail looking Sandaime. He suddenly felt very young and helpless. “Will. . . . Will this be okay? You won’t. . . . Get in trouble for letting me go?”

Sandaime waved him off, pipe in his hand again. “You’re also lucky that you’re my favourite, brat. Now don’t worry about it and get out of here. I’ve been dealing with the council since before you were in diapers.”

Iruka nodded once. “Thank you.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Another (yes, I _know_. . . . please be patient) three years later (sorry, I didn’t mean it….). . . .**

            Iruka jiggled his leg nervously on the bench, waiting his turn to see the Sandaime. As he shuffled in, he took a deep breath. He wouldn’t have asked unless it was important, Iruka reminded himself. Bracing himself with the steeliest resolve he could muster, he opened his mouth, and. . . .

            Sandaime raised a brow.

            Iruka opened and closed his mouth. No, he couldn’t outright lie to this man. A half-truth, then? “I would like to request a short leave.”

            “You have been working at the Academy for three years now, Iruka-Sensei. Is there not a break coming up soon?”

            Iruka gulped. “This can’t wait that long.”

            The Sandaime puffed peacefully on his pipe.    (Ugh. . . . I sound like Dr. Seuss.)

            Iruka transferred his weight from one leg to the other impatiently.

            The Sandaime blinked.

            Iruka consciously unclenched his fists.

            The Sandaime simply looked at him.

            He dried the sweaty palms on his standard issue pants.

            The Sandaime smoked.

            Iruka rolled on the balls of his feet.

            The Sandaime put his pipe down.

            Iruka put his hands in his pockets.

            The Sandaime steepled his hands.

            Iruka coughed. Then blurted, “It’s a. . . . Sort of a. . . . family emergency?”

            “Family emergency.” The Sandaime looked at him over his laced fingers.

            Iruka nodded.

            “Do you, Umino Iruka, know the current whereabouts of Uchiha Itachi, S-class nukenin from the Hidden Leaf Village?” He raised an eyebrow, knowing that was the only man left Iruka considered family, aside, perhaps, from his own, as the boy had spent a lot of time with them after the Kyuubi attack.

            Iruka coughed again. He took stock of the situation, then decided that perhaps he _should_ have lied from the get-go. No one even suspected they’d never lost contact—quite a feat in a hidden village—but he still had trouble lying to his superior officer out-right. He mentally shook his head. He was a _shinobi, damnit!_ subterfuge was their bread and butter. No wonder he made a better teacher than anything else. Him and his soft heart. Outwardly though, a firm, “No, Hokage-sama, I do not.”

            The Sandaime nodded. “Good. Asuma and his sister are fine as well, oh—and Konohomaru is learning to read. So unless you know something I don’t?”

            Iruka shook his head no. He tried again, making sure to bring tears to his eyes, “My great-grandfather died, sir. He lives in the Village Hidden in the Mist. I know it’s a long shot, but I haven’t visited since before. . . . Well, before the Kyuubi anyhow. I thought, maybe. . . .” He trailed off.

            The Sandaime shook his head, but his demeanour immediately softened. Or course Iruka would have a reasonable explanation. Friends with Itachi or not. . . . Iruka felt a little bit guilty, but only a little. “I’m sorry my boy. Things with Mist have very recently become tense. Even if you wait to visit until the school break, it may not be entirely safe.”

            Iruka grappled at straws. This was his last chance—not that he was planning on going anywhere near Mist, but still—it _had_ at one point been his paternal grandfather’s home; and—bonus! If the political climate was bad, word that he didn’t actually go there would probably never reach the Sandaime’s ears. “But I have family there. I am as good as considered a local.”

            The Sandaime sighed. “I understand you want to go, but you have _distant_ family in Mist. _You_ and your father before you were both born in Konoha. Your grandfather came here when he was only a boy. You are not a local anywhere but here.”

            Iruka made to open his mouth again, but the old man cut him off. “That’s my final decision. I’m sorry but you will have to wait to pay your respects until the political climate cools down.”

            Iruka nodded, terse, but obediently (he hoped).

            A clone it was then. He seriously hoped none of the brats would disperse it accidentally. He’d have to read them the riot act before he left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX


	3. Pop! Goes Iruka

  1. N. I know I’ve done a lot of time skips, so just to be clear, Itachi is 16, almost 17 right now and Iruka is 19, almost 20.



**Chapter Three: Pop! Goes the Iruka. . . . Can A Dolphin be a Summons?**

            Iruka, true to form his cat-and-mouse form, made sure no one was following him when he left Konoha. He had left a clone behind in his apartment with clear instructions for the following two weeks at school. Hopefully he’d be back by then. He had spent all day covertly prepping, telling his kids that he expected their best behaviour for the next two weeks, and setting up testing so that there was less of a chance that his clone would pop during some form of Taijutsu practicum or outdoor exercise.

            Shisui, before his death, had taught Itachi his crows technique and if anyone thought it weird that Iruka would willingly walk into the midst of the murder of crows in the South Forest Training ground 2 now and then, well—his temper was enough to convince them not to mention it. Others, who knew him better, thought it was due to missing Shisui that he would visit the crows. Itachi’s own Sharingan and Iruka’s basic medi-nin training (all assistant teachers had to have it, and now that he was a full Sensei, he had advanced medi-nin training) had allowed them to implant the eye Shisui had saved into a crow summon—one that hid very well within a murder of ordinary crows. Shisui’s preferred partner, the crow—usually called Makkuro, had begrudgingly allowed Itachi to dub him ‘Aniki-Makkuro,’ often shortened to Ani, after the implant. He had also allowed Iruka—the first non-Uchiha to do so—to sign the crow-summoning scroll—to facilitate their undetected communication. Ani, as the leader of his own murder or flock, understood the intense bond between the three brothers of choice and had been the one to suggest having two summoners for the same murder—a usually unheard of—(summoning scrolls were mostly passed on to the next owner after a shinobi’s retirement, death, or at the earliest, while he or she was training the next contract-holder) arrangement. Iruka, realising it was an honour to be included at all on the family scroll, had respectfully only ever summoned Ani to relay messages to Itachi and never for battle (though Ani admired him for this and although he wouldn’t have minded, it did make it easier with two summoners that one take a back seat). Which is why Ani had recently taken on his own apprentice, hoping to eventually ‘assign’ him to be the young sensei’s own, personal summon.

            It had been very late last night though, or rather, very early that morning—that Ani had broken form and contacted Iruka directly at his abode—which to the young sensei meant that whatever Itachi needed, it was serious—prompting him to make that rushed meeting to the Sandaime before classes began. He had waited until after dinner and his missions room shift to flee into the dark of the forest, so as not to arouse suspicion. Then he told Ani his plan—since the crow insisted Itachi wanted to speak to

Iruka in person and refused to give the pony-tailed chuunin any more information—Iruka felt that no time should be wasted running, or even shunshinning to where his brother waited. He had decided instead to send word for Itachi to summon Ani in exactly ten minutes—at which time he would have already used a temporary fuinjutsu to link himself with the summon so that he could be pulled first into the summoning plane with Ani when he dispersed and then back when Itachi summoned Ani through again on his side—effectively cutting any and all traveling time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Itachi was surprised, to say the least when, upon summoning Ani at the time Iruka instructed—not only the crow, but his Iruka-nii-san himself popped into existence out of the summoning plane.

            “What the actual fuck?” he muttered under his breath. Iruka laughed, wobbled and caught himself on Itachi’s shoulder as he blew out a breath.

            He glanced up smilingly, “Well am I ever glad _that_ little experiment worked!”

            Itachi gaped at him, shrieking faintly, “You didn’t know if it would work?!!”He tightened his grip on Iruka’s forearm.

            Iruka clapped him on the back. “I’ve never tried it before, but you sounded like you really needed me . . . . As in, right now.”

            The shorter shinobi began indignantly, “You could have gotten yourself kil—“ when a pained groan cut him off. He looked Iruka in the eyes, panic clearly written on his face as he grabbed his brother’s hand and led him into the next room.

            Iruka stopped dead in his tracks and turned a death glare on his younger brother. “What did you _do_?”

            Itachi gulped. Fiddled with his fingers as Iruka approached the two figures in the room—one a pretty little raven-haired girl in her early to mid-teens, just a bit younger than Iruka’s Itachi. She was holding onto an older teen’s hand—maybe only a year or two younger than Iruka himself, and the one obviously making the pained sounds. They had similar facial features, though the older girl’s were slightly sharper and she had soft brown hair. The brunette peered up as Iruka approached and extended her hand to him. He took it, kneeling by the bedside as she whispered, “Itachi says you’re trained as a sort of doctor?”

            Iruka glared hotly at his brother. “I have _some_ medi-nin training . . . . more like,” he cast around for words a civilian would know, because from everything he’d soaked in from their appearance so far, that’s what the girls were, “like a nurse. An inexperienced nurse.”

            The pretty brunette smiled. “That’s okay. Itachi trusts you.”

            “With my life,” the younger man whispered.

            To which Iruka replied, “We’ll talk about this _later_ ,” in a tone full of menacing promise as he turned his full attention back to the girl with a sigh. “May I?” She nodded. Itachi wisely retreated to the furthest corner of the room, making himself as inconspicuous as possible.

            Iruka summoned two clones into existence as she guided his hand to her chest, where he checked her pulse and breathing. Then he gently lifted her gown and had a clone lean an ear on each side of her belly as he placed his lips near her navel and whistled. The clones concentrated, silently, as he whistled another four times, then the one on the right blinked up at him, signalling ‘2’ with his fingers, though his expression indicated he wasn’t entirely sure. Iruka nodded tightly, then smiled gently at the girl.

            “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Her tinkling laugh filled the room.

            “My name is Kawaame,” she smiled, “and he was right. I _do_ like you. Most men would sound at least a little creepy speaking to a young girl they just met like that—but you just sound. . . . Warm.” She patted his hand fondly, then gripped hard as a spasm of pained rocked through her.

            He turned slightly to look at the younger girl, who had gasped at seeing her sister in pain. “Don’t worry. We’ll get your sister through this. What’s your name?”

            “Kaminari,” she whispered softly, worriedly rubbing the back of her sister’s hand.

            “Well Kaminari, I’m going to need your help. And _you_ ,” he swivelled sharply to Itachi, who had the good grace to bow his head slightly, “get me my bag, _now_.” The young man nodded and disappeared out the door. “Kaminari?” Iruka placed a palm on her shoulder gently. “Do you have a linen closet? And how well are your kitchen and bathroom stocked? We’re going to need a few more things—I only have an emergency field kit, but I can make-do with some substitutes.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Iruka took charge swiftly and decisively, much to the younger teens relief. He had Itachi clear out the majority of the furniture and set up only two tables. One had Iruka’s emergency kit and all of their gathered supplies on it—including washcloths, medicinal herbs, towels, a bowl of ice and one of steaming water. He had also directed Itachi to use a jutsu to create a stone basin full of warm water in the corner. Kawaame, or Ame for short, now had makeshift handles by her sides (Iruka had fashioned them of wooden spoons tethered by twisted cloths) for her to bear down on whenever a particularly nasty wave of pain assaulted her. He had warned her it could be a long process and had administered a very low dose of pain-dulling herbs. Her sister, Kaminari—Nari for short, had promised to come get him if anything seemed to go wrong as Iruka pulled his brother into the hall and closed the door behind them.

            “This is not how I wanted to tell you,” Itachi began.

            Iruka quirked an eyebrow sardonically as he regarded his adopted brother sombrely, “No shit, ‘Tachi?”

            The younger shinobi jerked at his dark locks. “It’s not like you haven’t done it! You were sleeping with Hagane-san when you were only fourteen!”

            “That’s different,” Iruka hissed, grabbing Itachi by the arm.

            “Why??!!” Itachi jerked back.

            “For starters, I’m _not a nukenin_. And,” he jabbed Itachi in the chest here, “I’m gay. I can’t _get another man pregnant_!”

            If possible, Itachi paled to an even pastier, ghostly shade of porcelain. A silent sob wracked his body. “It’s too early, Iruka-nii. It’s too early. . . . “ He was shaking his head, hands wringing in front of his mouth. Iruka had never—in ten years of knowing him—ever, seen him this emotional.

Tears gathered in the corners of Itachi’s eyes and Iruka sighed, taking pity on the usually stoic young man, dropping his hands from his hips to pull the man—no, Iruka corrected himself, the boy—into a tight, reassuring hug.

            After what seemed like an eternity, Iruka let him go and gently pulled his chin up to look him in the eyes. “What happened?”

            Itachi gestured to the room. “Isn’t it obvious?” his voice pitched higher, slightly hysterically at the end of his sentence.

            He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “When I left the village, I had nowhere to go. I was exhausted from the fight and I literally ran until I dropped. I ended up in a tiny town near Mist. This civilian and his two daughters fed me. . . . Let me stay until I could fend for myself again.”

            Iruka pulled Itachi close, leaning them against the wall. It hurt to hear—his brother was one of Konoha’s prodigies—he wasn’t supposed to be hurt like that. When Itachi leaned his head on Iruka’s shoulder, the older man kissed the top of his head and asked, “Then what?”

            “Then I joined Akatsuki.” Itachi peeked up at Iruka through tear-stained eyelashes.

            Iruka leaned their foreheads together. “No matter what, Itachi.” Itachi nodded, the relief barely concealed on his face. Iruka had heard the news around the Tower at home that Itachi had been seen with other nukenin, but no one had much information other than that. From what Itachi was saying, it seemed like a gang. Iruka wondered if Itachi had deliberately left this news out of his letters because he was ashamed, and he asked as much out loud. From the way Itachi wouldn’t meet his eyes, Iruka knew he’d hit the nail on the head. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, Itachi-kun. And my love as a brother comes before my life as a soldier. I have hidden the fact that I write to you on a weekly basis from an entire village of trained nins—if it helps ease your burden, I can keep a few of your secrets too.” Itachi squeezed harder around Iruka’s middle.

            “Akatsuki. . . . business. . . . took me away from there, but when the small village was rumoured to have been attacked last year, I came back to check on the man and his daughters.” Itachi took a shuddering breath. Iruka tightened his hold around his shoulders. “I figured I owed them that much. He was injured and didn’t make it. I set the girls up here as a repayment to the three of them for taking care of me. The rest sort of just. . . . _happened._ ” Iruka clucked at him and Itachi smiled minutely, imagining Shisui in his head calling the eldest a mother hen.

            “Well then, let’s go make you a daddy!” Iruka beamed wickedly when Itachi froze and seemed to realise the gravity and newfound _realness_ of the situation. He stayed stuck in the hall—feet figuratively glued to the floor— while Iruka disappeared inside, only to reappear a second later, grinning, “Well, come on then, _papa_ , shit’s happening in here.” He yanked the younger in by his hand, jerking the sleeve up to hand him something that Itachi saw was a kunai-like pair of scissors.

 _Oh, hell_ —he was going to die. Or vomit. Or pass out.

He passed out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

A.N. Okay, so maybe I’m stretching Iruka’s echolocation a lot from what it presented as in the series (but they only show it once—so I can have a bit of creative licence :)) and—since I have been present at a pair of births (not a lot, I know—but still—) there is an actual purpose for everything I had Iruka ask for in the room—and I even missed a couple of things I would have liked to add for details, but I don’t think I’m good enough to actually write the birthing scene, so, yeah. . . . I guess it doesn’t matter anyways then. Though I would love to show more of Iruka’s mother-hen/nurse-y-ness I figure I’ll have a lot of chances later! :)

 

I do have meanings for the names though—most of you hard-core otaku-fanfic-fans will recognize Aniki (older brother), then there’s Makkuro (pitch black), Kawaame (literally river and rain smashed together) and Kaminari (thunder, to go with her sister’s rain). I thought it’d be kind of cute if Itachi’s lover had something in common with his brothers (water), since they’re all three his chosen family (and now Iruka’s sort-of-sister-in-law, Kaminari’s name definitely reminds me of his temper and his own future lover—can anyone say chidori, lol?). Also, sorry if I messed up about Shisui/Itachi’s crows—Shisui’s arc was rather small so I’m not entirely sure how much of a stretch I’m making there, so I’m sorry if it’s too presumptuous that he got them from his cousin, so I took some creative liberty (and the pic floating around out there of Itachi’s crow with Shisui’s eye only spurred me on, lol). Anyways, it’s pretty obvious this is canon divergent, but I do try to keep most up until Shippuden. Also, sorry if my writing is shitty and riddled with more errors than usual—not only have I been super-pissed at my ex for weeks but one of my cats is very sick too, so yeah. . . . I’m totally making excuses but I’m distracted.

 

And I’m sorry for the coming angst. I try not to—really, most of my fics are fluffy or funny or just plain old sex. I’m sorry!!


	4. For You, Brother, Anything

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, Kishimoto-Ojiisan has that honour. I make no money from writing fanfiction (unfortunately).

**Chapter Four: For You, Brother, Anything**

            As they worked into the night through Ame’s labour, the brothers did a lot of talking. As Iruka’s clone had predicted, there were twins—but surprisingly, there was a third baby—most likely missed by the echolocation due to being behind the other two. Iruka learned that while Itachi and Ame’s pregnancy was accidental (he sure as hell hoped so, or his brother would have some damn explaining to do) and since they estimated their due date around Iruka’s own birthday of May 26th, that they had intended for Itachi to share the news when the brothers had a quick visit, as they always did near their birthdays.

Itachi, as a nukenin, had known right away that he wouldn’t be able to keep a family with him. He had hesitantly asked Iruka for the biggest favour he had ever asked anyone. The plan had been to send Ame home with Iruka and for him to claim that his brother’s child was his own—a ‘mission baby’ as it were—a child born as a direct or indirect result of a mission. This, Itachi explained, would also protect the baby from the council—an Uchiha could be forcefully conscripted, as there was no current clan head. If the child was on record as Iruka’s offspring, however, he or she would only be permitted in the academy with his express permission (and, as Itachi smilingly pointed out, Iruka was quite pig-headed when it came to protecting children—and a niece or nephew would be a particularly important one to him). Iruka, admittedly as pig-headed as Itachi claimed, agreed that the plan (though, he jokingly lamented, it may put a dent in his reputation with the gents) was quite brilliant and effective.

That had all come crashing down though, when Ame had shown signs of her premature labour in the wee hours of that morning when Itachi had sent Ani to Iruka in a panic. He apologised profusely for springing this on the older nin, but as Iruka had responded resignedly, Itachi had known deep down that the answer would be an approximation of ‘yes,’ as Iruka confirmed with a squeeze to his brother’s knee and a quietly spoken, “For you, brother, anything.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            It had seemed to go wonderfully. Ame, with Iruka’s help, had delivered identical twin girls and one son. Both Iruka and Itachi had checked over each infant and the new mother. Nothing seemed amiss—Ame was perhaps a bit exhausted, but that was to be expected.

            He continued to monitor his charges and though he worried slightly about Ame’s blood pressure staying on the high side, there had been no obvious complications. All three babies were healthy; they had delivered the placenta and coaxed Ame into both a short walk and a warm shower. He and Itachi—to be on the safe side—took shifts monitoring the new mother for the first forty-eight hours after delivery due to Iruka’s concern over the blood pressure and what it might mean.

            There were no other warning signs, but during Itachi’s shift, in the 47th hour, Iruka felt his brother shaking him awake violently. Wild eyes raked over Iruka as he rasped, “Her blood pressure spiked, then—then—I don’t know what to do!”

            Iruka immediately leapt into action, assessing the situation as clinically as possible—he immediately began pumping his own chakra into her—but he knew immediately what must have happened—and it was bad news. When Iruka explained, chakra depleted and in tears, Itachi took it in like a boulder in the wind. Post-partum haemorrhage. Itachi collapsed into his brother’s arms—but found he had no tears left. It took Iruka himself a full 24 hours to even semi-recover from extreme chakra depletion—his brother had never loved him more—after watching him pour nearly every ounce of his own energy into trying to save his sister-in-law—nor had he ever been so devastated since the night of the massacre as he was to lose his lover—but shinobi are shinobi. So, on autopilot, they buried Ame under a beautiful tree in the village’s abandoned cemetery. They packed up and made sure to leave no trace of themselves in the little home they had shared. After the loss of her sister, Iruka had immediately become even more mother hen like towards Kaminari and took her under his wing. She had gravitated towards him naturally (as was the usual for Iruka and children or people in general) and Itachi had never been more thankful for Iruka’s heartfelt nature over his own more detached manner. They said a subdued goodbye and were already a few hundred feet down different paths when Itachi turned back and laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

            Iruka turned questioning eyes on the younger man.

            “Don’t . . . . don’t. . . . don’t tell them about Ame and I until they’re older. Please, Iruka. Please be the father I can’t. Give them. . . . give them the childhood a ninja never has.”

            Iruka held his brother tightly. He kissed the top of his head. “I promise.”

            Shakily, Itachi added, “I’m. . . . I’m going to stop writing.” He looked down at the ground. “It will make it easier for all of us. Please. . . . I know it goes against everything you stand for as my brother, but please. . . . Please do the same.” He inhaled sharply.

            “I. . . . don’t agree, you’re right. But I do understand. You promise me something too though, all right?”

            Itachi looked up into warm brown eyes. “Remember, Itachi. Remember that I love you. I love you no matter what. And I will do anything for our family. Anything.” Iruka held onto Itachi’s biceps, trying to channel all of his warmth and love into the younger nin. They stood there in silence until Kaminari placed a hand gently on Iruka’s forearm to break their trance and nodded to Itachi as she pulled Iruka away. Itachi watched them leave until they were out of sight, then still remained watching where they had disappeared for hours.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**


	5. Signed, Sealed, Delivered

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, Kishimoto-Ojiisan has that honour. I make no money from writing fanfiction (unfortunately).

**Chapter Five: Signed, Sealed, Delivered**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

            Iruka had to admit that while he had taken an immediate liking to Kaminari, he grew more impressed with her each day that they had traveled closer to home. Though Iruka himself, as a shinobi, could compartmentalise things such as losing a sister-in-law and a patient, Kaminari proved herself quite level-headed and pragmatic as well, concentrating more on her nieces and nephew than her own sadness. She had obviously spent time in the wilderness before, Iruka noted, after watching her forage and help him set up camp like a trooper. The second morning, as he’d checked her for fatigue and any minor injuries before they continued their hike, he’d asked her permission to check her chakra reserves and was surprised to find she had quite the potential as a possible shinobi.

            Iruka also noted, drily, that while his nieces and nephew were adorable (and he’d already completely fallen in love with them—perhaps even more than he loved his brothers—there was just something about a baby)—they were also way more work than even his class full of pre-genin were. He had no doubt that by the time they were in their terrible twos, he’d be able to produce twice as many clones as he could now with half the drain on his system—the only reason he and Kaminari had managed to get any sleep over the last two nights was because of his three clones—and well, practice makes better, right?

            Since no one knew that he had even left the village, he knew that he couldn’t just waltz in through the front gate. He would have to sneak his way in, but then he planned on having their aunt bring the kids through. He gave Kaminari detailed instructions about how he would set them up in a camp less than half a day’s walk from the village, then sneak in that night and meet her by the gates the next morning. They would then file all of the paperwork and hopefully be settled by the next evening.

            Iruka sighed. He knew he’d promised his brother—and he’d do anything fro one of his brothers (and now his new little family as well)—but he wasn’t sure he could do this. Kaminari came up silently to sit beside him. They worked very well together. He and his sister-in-law had an interesting rapport and an uncanny ability to communicate non-verbally. He turned to her and shrugged, smiling. She nodded and slipped an arm through his.

            “You can do this, you know, Iruka.” She tucked a strand of her hair behind an ear. “They wouldn’t have asked you otherwise. You will be an amazing father.”

            He leaned against the younger teen. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be an. . . . uncle,” he admitted.

            “Who is ever ready?” She nudged him. “Itachi-nii-san and. . . . and—and, Ame—they believed you were the best man for the job.” Iruka slid his arm around her shoulders.

            “You’re doing amazing, Kaminari-chan.” He squeezed gently. “But it’s okay to mourn. You can let go, you don’t have to hold it all in.” She hid her face in his shoulder. No need for them both to be the strong one—he had realised the second that they and his brother had parted ways that a lot of things in his life were about to change. There was no way he’d be able to support his new family of five very comfortably on a regular chuunin school teacher’s salary. Sure, they’d been talking about promoting him to headmaster, but he hoped to register Kaminari in the Academy and that would carry quite the price tag in itself—not to mention that with three infants, his apartment would no longer be large enough—that meant a down payment on a house. He knew exactly what he had to do—and though he had been opposed to it before, mostly due to his emotions—wearing his heart on his sleeve (perhaps a bit of laziness, he would admit) and not any physical or mental limitations, he would do anything for his family. It had been suggested to him once, at the prime of his pranking career—and with a little extra work to get him in better shape to take the test—he hoped the Sandaime would still let the offer stand.

Anything. He had a lot of training in front of him. Sigh. . . .

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Kakashi was returning from a week long S-class, when he ran into a young teenager—maybe just under ten years his junior—with two infants strapped to her back and one in her arms. She glanced over at him and spoke.

            “I’m looking for Umino Iruka?” She gulped—she’d practiced this. She could pull it off. “He is a chuunin of Konoha. I. . . . have. . . . _something_. . . . of his.”

            Kakashi looked her up and down. She seemed to be a civilian, so he couldn’t imagine that she carried anything a shinobi would want, need or. . . . His eyes lit on the infant in her arms. Unless. . . . It dawned on him. _Mission baby. Hmmmm. . . . Umino Iruka. It sounded_ slightly _familiar. . . ._ Kakashi thought really hard. _Oh! The chuunin that he’d worked with that one time. . . . Capable, yes, and though intelligent, not particularly interesting—but headstrong and emotional as well. Hmph._ He narrowed his eyes slightly at the girl and her charges. Perhaps they could be useful shinobi—he glanced her up and down again, taking everything in—even _with_ what he assumed to be was their civilian mother. And then, wouldn’t you know it—the pony-tailed man himself appeared off to the side.

            Iruka decided he’d waited long enough not to appear suspicious and left his hiding spot to approach Kaminari and—he sighed—the famous Copy-Nin. He hoped the man didn’t remember their only mission together. He put a surprised look on his face—he wasn’t supposed to be expecting anyone, after all.

            From the way Umino approached the girl, Kakashi assumed he had guessed correctly—the tan man obviously knew the young woman and watching him place himself between the gate and her surreptitiously— _protectively_ , even, he rolled his eyes internally—it figured. The emotional chuunin _would_ be the type to get attached to a target or an informant—whatever the young woman had been. From what little he knew of the chuunin, he’d think that the man would take issue with the obviously younger woman’s age—from Kakashi’s perspective, she was at the very least thirteen, probably closer to fifteen, really—old enough to consent—but as a teacher, he didn’t think Iruka would be completely okay with that—but (though he was at most only five or so years older than the young woman) he supposed the man could have developed more of a tolerance for difficult orders. Good. And, taking in their looks beside one another, he figured that yes, the children were obviously theirs—what with the girl’s jet-black hair, similar to the infants’ own, and their skin tone a café-latte cream—lighter than the chuunin’s caramel brown and minutely darker than the girl’s paler, honey skin-tone.

            Outwardly, the silver-haired shinobi shrugged. None of it was his problem anyways. He shunshinned off to give his report. Iruka watched the other shinobi poof away, then pulled his nephew out of his sister-in-law’s arms. He wrapped an arm tighter around her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead.

            “You did great, Kaminari-chan. Let’s get you guys home.” She nodded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Without explaining everything (Iruka marvelled at how easy it was becoming to let lies slide off his tongue—anything for family), Iruka gave the version of events they had previously discussed. The Sandaime didn’t even seem to suspect anything as the brunet filed birth certificates for ‘his’ children and a citizenship application for his sister-in-law. He asked for the afternoon off at the Academy to settle his family in and then for another audience with Sandaime later that evening.

            Iruka led Kaminari through the village, pointing out all of the important landmarks, such as the Academy, the hospital, the market, and of course, Ichiraku’s. When they arrived at his small apartment, he grinned sheepishly. “We’ll be a little cramped for a while.”

            Kaminari placed her bag down gently inside the door and toed off her sandals. “Its all right, Iruka-nii-san.”

            He patted her on the shoulder. “Come here a minute.” She turned back questioningly from laying one of the twins on the kotatsu. “I’m just going to key my traps to your chakra, so you can come and go whenever.”

            She nodded. “Iruka-nii?”

            He looked up from reconfiguring one of his fuinjutsu on the door. He smiled at how easy it was to just _be_ with his sister-in-law. How she’d so easily taken to calling him big brother. “Yes?”

            “Why did you ask for a second audience with the, um . . . . Hokage?”

            He smiled. It was cute how innocent she was. He’d have to talk with her about entering the Academy. Instinctually, he knew she’d make a good shinobi, but he didn’t want to assume she would want a life like his. Especially what he’d chosen to do next. Actually, he’d prefer if she chose to remain a civilian—one less of his precious people to constantly worry over, but he also wanted to allow her the choice. She even sounded unsure that the Sandaime was called a Hokage. He smiled.

            “Yes, the Hokage. I requested a meeting with him to discuss. . . . Future employment possibilities.”

            Kaminari frowned slightly. “You’re a teacher, right?”

            He nodded and coaxed a bit of her chakra into the seal. “Yes.”

            “Why. . . . Why do you need to discuss employment?” She looked down at her feet. “Are you going to finish your. . . . med-nin— _medi_ -nin training?” She corrected herself. Then, hesitantly, softly, “To make more money? Is it. . . . is it because of us?”

            Iruka stopped working for a minute. Big brother mode washed over him. This needed his complete attention. He turned her to face him and pulled her chin up to look him in the eye. “You don’t need to worry, Kaminari-chan. It is _my_ job to worry. _I_ am the grown-up. _I_ am the shinobi. Itachi is my brother—my brother by choice, I’ll remind you—and he asked me to raise his children as my own. I could have said no. I did not. I _chose_ to do this. There are many awful things about being a shinobi—like losing my parents. Being left with no family—but that means I got to do something most people do not. Kaminari-chan, I _chose_ the family I have left. _You_ are my little sister now—it is _my_ job to take care of _you_ , not the other way around. I want the best for all of you.” Iruka waved a hand towards the infants in the living area. “I am the type of person who would do anything for my family.” He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze and re-iterated, “ _All_ of you.”

            She shifted from foot to foot and rubbed one of her arms. “I know you would do anything for your family.” She smiled at him, and scrubbed at a watery eye, “You’re a good person. My sister and I could tell from the minute we met you. But. . . .” She looked down again.

            “But?” he nodded his encouragement.

            “That doesn’t mean you should have to do _everything_.” She looked at him, an almost pleading quality to her frown.

            He smiled, a deep laugh rumbling his chest as he pulled her to himself tightly. He kissed her on the very top of her head, as he used to do with Itachi—before he had grown almost as tall as Iruka himself—and spoke gently, “I appreciate your concern, Kaminari. I’m glad I’m not in this alone. . . . But I _am_ the grown-up. I don’t want you to worry.” He held her at arms length. “Okay?”

            She nodded, then threw herself into his arms, wrapping her own tightly around his middle. He almost stumbled at the force of it, but then wrapped his arms around her in return, smiling and placing another gentle kiss on the top of her head.

            “We’re going to be okay, Kaminari-chan. I’ll take care of us.” He felt her nod into his chest, and felt a warm feeling settle over his heart. Difficult as it was going to be, he knew he was making the right decisions.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            It hadn’t taken long to settle Kaminari and the kids in. His apartment wasn’t that large and she didn’t have many belongings. He’d given her his room for now and rearranged the living area into a nursery—sleeping on the couch, he’d be able to watch over them in the night easily. He hoped it wouldn’t take long to find the right house.

            His meeting with the Hokage had gone well, the Sandaime had indeed told him the offer still stood and he had scheduled his test for the next school holiday. It didn’t give him a great deal of time to prepare, but hopefully, just enough if he pushed himself hard. He sighed. _Damn. Once he’d perfected his teaching techniques, he’d honestly kind of coasted. This meant more effort than he’d put in for the last two years combined._ He sighed. The things you do for family. Though, all things considered, he was happy with his life and he wouldn’t trade his family for anything.

            Deciding that there was no time like the present, he made his way over to one of the Academy training grounds before going home. He knew it would be empty, since the Academy had let out for the day hours ago. He’d prepared dinner for himself and Kaminari before going to his meeting and had left one clone with her to take turns feeding the little ones, so he knew all was well on that front for a while. Instead of the simple kata he taught everyday, he immediately began with an absolutely punishing series of taijutsu moves. It was going to be a long and _painful_ couple of weeks.

            It had been a damn long day and after dragging himself home and checking on everyone, he finally, _finally_ slid under the covers on the couch. His eyes had just barely slid closed when there was the piercing wail of his nephew off to his right. That boy was as finicky as Itachi had been as a small child. Parenting, Iruka decided, might _just_ be the death of him.

            As he rolled off the couch and stumbled over to the infant, picking him up gently and soothing him with a gently hummed lullaby, he resigned himself to little or no sleep that night. As the babe peered up at him with those big, beautiful, trusting brown eyes, it finally hit Iruka. It hit him like a ton of fucking granite. Whether they had started out as his nieces and nephew, whether he ever thought he’d even _have_ kids (not that easy when you’re gay), whether he was ready or not (nearly twenty didn’t seem old enough, not at the moment, anyways)—he was, for all intents and purposes, the head of a household of five. A sort of ready-made family, if you will. He was responsible—entirely responsible, he, himself, all alone, _by himself_ —for four other lives than his own, three who would be _completely_ and solely dependant on him for _everything_ , right down to all of life’s most basic needs, at least for the foreseeable future.

            _Holy_ shit _. He was a fucking_ father _._ His eyes went wide and he forgot how to breathe for a second. He looked down into the innocent face of the nephew he’d promised to raise as his own son. _I’m a father._ One of the girls stirred slightly. _No, please no_ , he begged silently in his head. _Don’t let the boy’s fussing wake the other two,_ he prayed. There was a little shuffling inside the bassinet and then a fearsome cry rang out. _He was_ so _screwed._

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

A.N. So I know that making Kakashi think Kaminari is the mother and that she and Iruka are a couple makes it a bit confusing—but there is a reason (eventual romantic angst, lol). . . . Also, I wanted it to be believable to people that the kids are Iruka’s, which is why their mother had brown hair like he does (they get it from her, but it makes it easy for them to pass as his if they have some similar features as he does) **and** her sister, Kaminari, has black hair like Itachi for a reason too— so that it makes it easier for Iruka to ‘hide’ them in Konoha—if people assume they get black locks from their mother’s side—like their aunt, then no one will suspect they’re Uchihas. Also, I do intend for Kaminari to choose to attend the Academy and become a shinobi and I figured that having her want to help Iruka would make it more believable that a civilian would choose that lifestyle/career. Finally, I do have names for the kids and eventually it would probably be explained but at the moment, I don’t want to have to worry about working in the explanation at this point—I want it to be a KakaXIru chat later on, but I _do_ want the audience to know the story so I’ll tell it in the A.N. for now, so that I can drop in their names right away and you’ll all be all caught up, without compromising the ‘integrity’ of my fic/narrative—meaning leaving that convo for them to have later, like in my original plan. . . . If that makes sense?

 

            So, here it is:

They will all have Iruka’s last name—even Kaminari will take it so that nothing, absolutely _nothing_ (except for the one thing that brings Kakashi in eventually and that Iruka has very limited control over) ties her or the kids back to Itachi (reasoning: if anyone found out she was one of the civilians who helped him, they may—though unlikely—be able to piece together the rest of the story).

            Ame tells Itachi to choose each of the children’s middle names, but asked Iruka to bear the honour of choosing their first names to thank him for the sacrifices he’s making in raising them and to cement his bond with them as an adoptive parent (also why I had Itachi call him to help with the birth, that way, he’s a part of their lives right from the beginning, and he kind of participates by being the ‘midwife’/nurse—and everyone listens to her because, well—she carried them for nine months and just damn-well _birthed_ them. Itachi is set on Shisui for the boy, for obvious reasons, and his and Iruka’s mothers’ names for the girls. As for Iruka, he names them after animals that have similarities to both he and his brother (I thought it would be a good way to suggest the duality between them as brothers and biological/adoptive fathers). Since Itachi means weasel and Iruka means dolphin, I went with names of aquatic (like dolphins) critters of the scientific classification of the mustelidae family (to which weasels belong). They are: Minkusui and Kawauso for the girls and Fuchikari for their son. I also thought it cute that the girls both have Ks and Ms, but since Shisui doesn’t match I didn’t think it would matter as much for the boy anyways. Also, there are several names for martens in Japanese and while I realise Fuchikari may resemble the English swear word ‘fuck,’ it is also the only one that ends in ‘kari’ and I thought that sort of matches the aunt Kaminari. Plus, bonus—Minkusui has ‘sui’ like Shisui and Kawauso has ‘kawa’ like Kawaame. Yay matchy-matchy family names all around :). I’ve always liked that Iruka and Itachi have a nice ring together too since they both start with I and have three syllables. Finally, martens, in some Japanese prefectures, are said to be like the North American black cat superstition—bad luck if you cross their path—a good moniker for an eventual shinobi, no? Bringing all of his opponents bad luck? Anyhoo, thanks for listening!

 


	6. Where I Go Fro Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for Kakashi's potty mouth. I know it's worse than Iruka, Itachi and Shishui's combined this chapter!

**Chapter Six: Where I Go From Here**

It didn’t take long for Iruka to figure out that—despite all the trials of parenthood—it did in fact, suit him well. It wasn’t much different from his job at the Academy, though instead of the exhausting six hours he had to be ‘on’ at school, parenting required you to be ‘on’ 24/7—which was, even for a shinobi—brutal.

            As discussed with the Hokage, he had to do something different career-wise or he wouldn’t be able to afford enough food—much less a house. He did not want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself or the kids, so undergoing the jounin trials again (failing once was embarrassing enough as it was) was not an option and pig-headed and mother-hen-ish as he was, he stoutly refused to give up his job at the Academy. He figured (though he wasn’t about to tell the Sandaime this tidbit)—that he could send a clone for his Missions Desks shifts so that he could use that time to go home and nap—as it was highly unlikely the Hokage Tower would be attacked anyways and he had already become far more proficient with clones in the month he’d been using them to take the night-shift with the triplets—and as a new, single parent—he really actually needed the rest, damnit.

Though, there was one other option that paid highly and would (he prayed) completely protect his identity, and therefore, his children.

Konoha’s Anbu _did not use_ the regular ranking system—so as long as he had the particular skill set required for one of the different divisions, Iruka could take A and S-class missions (much higher paying _and_ tailored to the specific divisions’ skills) on school holidays and weekends without applying for a rank promotion. Their identities were also hidden from everyone save the Hokage, and on some very rare occasions, team leaders or healers.

As a prankster, Iruka had always been particularly proficient at laying and dismantling powerful and creative traps. He also had a penchant for fuinjutsu, for many of the same reasons. Much to his dismay, his echolocation had always been a source of teasing for a young Iruka—he was _not_ an _actual_ dolphin, damnit—but combined with the other two talents—it helped make him quite adept at breaking into things ad places. This, as the Sandaime had pointed out just before Iruka had failed the jounin exam, though quite some time after their conversation about him possibly taking a position in teaching—made him a superb (though not ideal, given his soft heart) candidate for the infiltration division—basically, super-powered cat burglars.

Since returning home with his family, he had also begun to work furiously at bringing his taijutsu skills up to par and streamlining his hand seals. He had also quickly sought out a mentor in swordplay, as that was a favoured Anbu weapon (Asuma, as the Hokage’s son and well acquainted with his father’s favourite chuunin, asked no questions but offered a lot of assistance).

Other than that, they tested new Anbu in basic healing techniques—which he should have covered through his medi-nin training for the Academy already. Sandaime knew he was fast and ‘invisible’ enough—capable of melting away in a chase—given his propensity for letting his authoritarian pursuers slip (a fancy way of saying not getting caught after a prank and subsequent chase) to be useful. Also, given the paperwork he’d filed when his family arrived—could understand why Iruka had finally chosen to act on the offer despite his initial misgivings about being able to put his emotions aside for higher and harder missions.

The Anbu also regularly trained and used pigeons for communication and Iruka figured that after working with Ani—how hard could working with a pigeon be? He had also been surprised (albeit pleasantly) when, after roughly a week at home, a young crow, calling himself Burakku, had appeared at Iruka’s window and explained that he was Ani’s apprentice and the leader of a new, small flock of summons that the wizened old crow had been training for the young sensei’s use for several months already. Summoning, though not a _requirement_ for Anbu, _was_ a welcome talent.

Once he passed the ‘entrance exam’ (really, just demonstrating his skills to Sandaime), he’d also have to worry about learning the Anbu codex of signs and signals—but he’d worry about one step at a time—that could wait until later. The Hokage had also implied that while the current headmaster did not seem to want to go anywhere, as soon as the position opened, it was Iruka’s for the taking.

During their conversation, the Sandaime had also agreed to assess Kaminari’s potential for the Academy. After checking her chakra levels and administering a psych evaluation, he had given Iruka the thumbs up as soon as her citizenship came through.

Iruka had gone home and presented the idea to her and she had immediately agreed, though she asked him if he wouldn’t mind training her at home, since, at nearly fourteen and a half, she was much older than the average Academy student. Iruka suspected she had agreed because she felt she needed to ‘pull her own weight,’ (which he’d called her on), but she had explained that while that was _part_ of her rationale, the other was so that if anyone ever came after her nieces and nephew for being a nukenin’s biological children, she could protect them to the best of her abilities. Iruka found that since he completely understood that line of thought, being so similar to many of his own intrinsic motivations—that he shouldn’t deny her that right. Though he made it clear to Kaminari that he didn’t expect her to provide for the kids or at this point, even herself yet—again, he insisted, as the grown-up, that was his job—he did agree to tutor her privately. They were slated to begin the week after Iruka’s appointment with the Hokage to assess his Anbu application.

Iruka also discovered, during those first two weeks back, that if motivated enough, his sister-in-law had a temper to almost match his own. She was determined to contribute to her own care at the very least and insisted on getting some form of job to help pay for food costs and clothing. When Iruka continued to dig his heels in, she had become increasingly irate and confrontational, culminating in a stage-whispered ‘shouting’ match (they both figured there was no reason to wake the kids once they were asleep— _ever_ ). When she had resorted to throwing his books at him from the shelf with dangerously accurate aim, he had conceded and though he flat out refused to let her pay any form of rent or board—he agreed to let her get a part-time job to buy her own clothes, have pocket money and start to build some savings. He also relented and agreed to split the cost of her schooling, uniform and weapons supply instead of covering the whole thing on his own.

Kaminari had applied at several teashops and the nearest onsen, but had eventually found her place working as a veterinary’s assistant with Hana Inuzuka. Upon meeting her, and learning from Iruka that she was a new Academy student, Hana had been more than willing to provide basic secretarial and animal-handling training for the younger woman. Iruka was delighted to note that it seemed the girls hit it off and would become good friends. Kaminari would work evenings (they agreed that would work out well—since that would be around the time Real-Iruka would be home to nap and Clone-Iruka would be at the Missions Desk, therefore ensuring at least one of them would physically be with the kids at all times). Though, mother hen as he was, Iruka never left any less than two clones with the kids at all times anyways. Kaminari seemed to find this both endearing and exasperating in equal parts. She had taken to making lunch (or bento boxes for work) and frankly, chasing Iruka out with a wooden ladle if he tried to help; stating that there were three meals in the day and he could afford to let her help with at least one.

Secretly, Iruka delighted in trying to ‘help’ just to get a reaction out of his sister-in-law, but he suspected she knew that already as she would often laugh and throw vegetables at him before he even made it into the kitchen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Kakashi had been on forced light-duty since his return from his weeklong S-class mission for nearly two weeks already and he was going stir crazy. He didn’t feel like he could handle any more border patrol or in-village downtime. He was frustrated enough that even Gai had noticed he was lashing out when they sparred and the ‘lady’ (Kakashi thought she was more like a stinking, useless cockroach) that ran the poor excuse of a shitty hovel called ‘orphanage’ where the council had confined his Sensei’s son had tattled to the Hokage at least four times already; stating that Kakashi was ‘harassing’ her and ‘disturbing the peace.’

He had always been permitted as the Anbu ‘Hound’ to ‘kidnap’ Naruto every now and again (it more like protective custody really, just give him a safe place to sleep and make sure he was getting enough food, which— _fuck it all, that bitch did not fucking do_ )—but apparently as Kakashi that wasn’t permitted because then, gasp, people might actually suspect that the blue-eyed blond was his late sensei’s son. _Hmph. If no one ‘knew’ already then why the hell did the old man forbid them from talking about it? They_ all fucking knew _. . . . He just wasn’t allowed to fucking help the kid—everything was in place to serve the council’s selfish fucking needs and not his sensei’s son. His Naruto._ He turned abruptly in frustration and kicked the nearest trash bin all the way down the alley.

Kakashi heard a pair of laughs—one rich and deep, the other tinkling and musical ring through the street and turned to catch sight of that pony-tailed chuunin, Umino-what’s-his-name and that baby-bringing girl walking down the road. The chuunin had a newspaper in hand and was pushing a pram while the young woman had an infant in a sling-carrier, her head on Umino’s shoulder, and a thin arm around his waist as she ducked under his stronger one. A hot, heavy lance of jealousy speared quickly through the silver-haired shinobi as he watched them pass— _Why the hell did they have it so easy when he couldn’t even fucking visit his Naruto? It wasn’t fucking_ fair _._

He realised that he must be leaking some angry chakra when the brunet turned his head to tilt his face a t him in puzzlement. He reigned himself in, but the younger, pony-tailed man seemed to tighten his hold on the girl and walk just a little bit faster away.

That _bothered_ him. He frowned.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

  1. N. I saw a neat little Wikia article about seven different animal Anbu divisions—at the time I thought it was fanon and not canon, but it’s what inspired me to describe a specialised ‘infiltration’ Anbu division anyhow.



P.S. I know some people might count my brunet/brunette and blond/blonde as grammatical errors, but I just wanted to let you know that I do it on purpose—I also speak French and I like that there is a feminine and masculine for words; so I use the hair colour words in the same way (even though, technically the difference is that one is the American spelling and the other is the Canadian spelling). Sorry if it bothers you, but it bothers me when I _don’t_ do it, lol.

Aaaaand—I know my characterizations of Kakashi and Iruka are slightly off from my usual—Iruka is far lazier than I usually write him (I usually give him a motivated work ethic) and while I often write him as affectionate, he isn’t usually as ‘protective’ or forward about it (think him in Hero—holding himself back versus him always kissing Itachi and Kaminari’s head); and Kakashi is quite frankly, nasty right now—but I’m trying to play up his dark, cold-blooded Anbu days—I swear he’ll be himself soon enough! It also makes it easier to create a wedge between our guys before the chuunin arc argument. I wanted Kakashi to adopt Naruto, but then the chuunin exam argument couldn’t happen (also why I took the Anbu route instead of getting Iruka to pass a jounin exam—he needs to stay chuunin at least until then for my plot not to have major loopholes). Thanks for being patient. :)


	7. Inside, I Die a Little

**Chapter seven: Inside, I Die a Little**

            After days of walking the village with Kaminari and an awkward-to-manoeuvre-even-for-a-damn-ninja-pram to view houses, Iruka had finally found the perfect one. It was a little yellow-accented two-storey with creeping vines on two sides, a cliché but nice white-picket fence and ample room. There was a veranda that wrapped around the front and one side, shuttered windows with quaint window boxes, and a large backyard with multiple little groves of trees.

            He put in an offer right away (and thank heavens he was one of Sandaime’s favourites, because it went through within days. Small miracles). By the time they were able to move in, the little ones were already nearly three months old and sleeping for longer periods during the night. Iruka had passed with flying colours to work in Anbu infiltration (except for taijutsu—he’d only had a few weeks to tighten up his skills and he just barely squeaked by on that one)—he had also decided _not_ to tell Sandaime that he had summons—though he did choose the ‘Karasu’ mask for his own. He also asked the Sandaime if it was all right for him to layer a fuinjutsu over his Anbu tattoo to hide it during Academy teaching. Though hesitant at first to cover the mark with anything other than a uniform sleeve, the Hokage had eventually agreed, if only for the brunet’s peace of mind.

            While the general populace couldn’t tell the girls apart, (and many tried, often greeting the well-loved Sensei in the streets) Iruka had quickly noted that while Minkusui was quite vocal (and liked to kick and generally fuss around until she had loosened the swaddle fold Iruka had wrapped her in), her sister Kawauso—younger than her by an hour and a half—was by far the quietest and most attentive of the three, awake the most and often regarding Iruka with her big brown eyes; while their brother, Fuchikari— the oldest by fifty minutes, was only vocal when he was uncomfortable (he howled particularly loud for wet diapers).

Iruka’s heart panged a little anytime he looked at his son and realised that other than the chocolate-coloured locks inherited from his mother, and a slightly darker skin tone—he was the spitting image of his biological father. It sometimes choked him up to think he would get to watch him grow and be reminded of his absent brother even more pointedly than ever before, to the point that Kaminari would bring a kerchief and wipe away the tears from his face before they were dropping softly onto the sleeping infant. As for the girls, they had jet-black hair and an even deeper skin tone than their brother, but only just—with delicate features that resembled their aunt and mother strikingly.

Iruka was very pleased with Kaminari’s progress from when he had begun training her several weeks ago. He was almost certain that within a year, he could assign her to a Jounin-sensei. Secretly, he was hoping for Genma to take her on, along with Chouchou and perhaps Shizuka—but knew he’d have to do some wheedling to make that happen—the Tokujo wasn’t particularly keen on taking the plunge into full jounin. Or being surrounded by three teenaged girls. Oh well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. He supposed Anko would be an acceptable substitute though.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            After being appointed to Anbu, the Sandaime had asked Iruka to stay back and speak to him a while. Iruka was slightly suspicious, but listened to his Hokage anyways. Apparently, the Jinchuuriki was turning ten that year and entering the advanced classes at the Academy. Sandaime mournfully requested that Iruka take the boy in his own class, as the other two senseis had already approached him to refuse the boy. Iruka begrudgingly relented. Prison for the demon or not—Iruka believed every child should have at least an opportunity. He, however, was _not_ looking forward to returning to classes that September.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Sandaime had insisted the assignment was to ease him into Anbu duties slowly, integrate him seamlessly with a team before sending him out in the field. Storming through the streets with a pitifully underfed and dirty blond child in his arms, Iruka silently ‘fuck you’d the Hokage in his head. That damn old man was playing dirty. He kicked the Sandaime’s office door in, pointed an accusing finger at the peacefully smoking old goat and hollered, “You did this on _purpose_!”

            The papers were filed—and under threat of maiming by irate Sensei—expected to be accepted by the end of the week. The poor desk chuunin nodded frantically and stamped them without even looking at them.

**Seventeen hours earlier . . ..**

            Iruka slid into his new Anbu uniform, stiff from never having been worn yet and donned his Crow mask. Jinchuuriki duty. Make sure he stayed out of trouble. Easy. How much worse than Iruka, Shisui and Itachi could he be? Iruka had never actually met the demon container, but he hoped he could stay impartial. No need to hold the brat responsible for the demon’s sins . . . . No matter how much Iruka hated the Kyuubi.

            He slid out of his window after kissing each of his kids goodbye for the day (to his sister-in-law’s chagrin, her too on the forehead) and took to the rooftops in silence, melting into the background of the village. He landed as silently as a shadow on the rooftop of the orphanage and signalled to the other Anbu on duty that they were dismissed. Though the Anbu Hound had been abrupt and curt with him the day previous, Iruka was glad he had been so thorough reviewing the Anbu codex with him. The Lion-masked Anbu nodded and swept off. Iruka settled in to his post and began to look around.

            The sun was warm on his exposed arms and he glanced down at his new standard Anbu tattoo. He never thought that he of all people would get inked. Once it was done though, he had felt a bit of a high from the slight sting and was mesmerised by how it moved with his skin. He was thinking of getting another one—this time, one of his own choosing.

            He watched as the village bustled around the orphanage and wondered when his charge would wake. A lazy little bugger, he thought, eyeing the hunched shaped on the bed. Must be nice to sleep in. He sighed and yawned behind his mask. Sleeping in was a luxury not reserved for parents of infants. He’d give anything for a full night’s rest right now.

            When noon came and went, Iruka could no longer tamp down his teacherly-instincts. He dropped through the window and began to make his way towards the prone figure on the bed, intent on waking him up. As he neared, the smell of unwashed linens and. . . . _illness? —_ assaulted his nostrils. Iruka crouched by the boy’s side, paternal instincts taking over unbidden. He slid the uncovered half of his metal-plated hand over the child’s forehead. It was burning. Absolutely boiling.

            Iruka gently rolled the child onto his back, brushing blond hair out of clenched eyes. At the gentle touch, the young boy woke—and seeing a grown-up in front of him—scrambled back as fast as his weak body could go in terror. Iruka frowned. That was _not_ a normal reaction.

            He spoke softly, “It’s all right,” stretching his hands placatingly between them, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

            The boy looked confused. Iruka’s frown deepened. “Do you understand me?”

            The boy watched him for a full minute, and then slowly nodded. Iruka crept forward slowly. “I’m not going to hurt you. Do you understand me?”

            The boy, though he looked wary, nodded again and allowed Iruka to approach him. Iruka ran a finger down the side of his face gently and stopped to hold his chin. “I’m going to use something called chakra to check you over. It might feel warm and it’s going to look funny and green, but it won’t hurt you. Do you understand?”

            The boy nodded again. He held himself stiffly, as if took all of his will power not to cower, but Iruka moved slowly, making sure the boy could see his hands the whole time. After running his chakra over the blond boy, Iruka peered up at him. The boy had a severe fever and showed signs of both malnutrition and extreme dehydration. No wonder he didn’t have the energy to get up.

            “How long have you felt sick?”

            The boy stared at him. His mouth was set in a grim, tight line. It looked like he couldn’t decide whether to trust Iruka or not. To hell with this, the brunet thought and slowly brought his hand up to push his mask up. Once the boy could see his face, he repeated himself softly, “How long have you felt sick?”

            Blue eyes raked slowly over his face as weak shoulders shrugged. Iruka held in a loud sigh. He didn’t want to startle the boy, but if this was the usual state of the Jinchuuriki, well, then—Iruka had some choice words for the orphanage’s matron. He held the boy’s cheek and told him, “I’m going to be right back, okay? Can you stay here for me?”

            The boy nodded, with only slightly less hesitance than before.

            Iruka got up, slid his mask back into place and then strode downstairs purposefully. At the bottom of the staircase, he took a right and marched into the matron’s office. She was lounging in a large chair, feet up on the desk and a cigarette dangling from her fingertips. Iruka was used to Asuma smoking and didn’t mind—but this woman just _bothered_ him. He quashed the urge to rip it out of her fingers and put it out on her forehead, but only just. There were empty sake bottles on the floor near the rubbish bin and dirty plates stacked with rancid food on the edge of the desk. Well . . . . it looked like at least _some_ of the residents here ate well. He shoved her feet none too gently off the desk.

            “Are you aware, _matron_ , that there is a boy under your care that is in serious need of food and medical attention?” Despite her being a civilian, and therefore unable to sense chakra, Iruka let copious amounts of killing intent run off of him in short bursting waves.

            She snorted and dropped her drunken ass off the chair ungracefully. “The demon brat? The one you animals are always _protecting_?” She said it in a tone that implied it was a dirty word, “Who cares? We’d all be better off if he were dead anyways.”

            Iruka saw red, snatching the woman up by the neck and shoving her hard against the wall. “You _fucking pig_.” He moved into her space menacingly, enjoying the way she gulped in fear. “That is a _child_. That child is _helpless_. It was _your job to take care of him_.” He punctuated each word with a tighter squeeze of her airway. His chakra was dancing around him violently. His last thought before he slammed her into the wall again and then let her crumple to the ground—a good foot long fall—was that he was damn glad he was Sandaime’s favourite or he’d definitely be getting in trouble for _that_ little interaction. Not the way he’d intended the meeting to go, but he had a child to take care of right now.

            As he stalked out of the office, he noticed that the boy had followed him down the stairs and huddled there, tear tracks on his face and a horribly worn scarecrow doll clutched in his small hands. Iruka immediately reigned in his chakra, knowing the boy had to have some nin in him or he wouldn’t have the reserves to imprison a demon. No need to scare the poor boy worse.

            Iruka dropped to a knee and lifted his mask again, hoping the boy wasn’t petrified of him now, but instead, to his great surprise, the boy launched himself forward and into Iruka’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably in— _relief_? “Is she mad at me again? Are you going to stay with me?” His voice sounded hoarse and unsure from disuse.

            Iruka wrapped his arms gently around the boy. “No,” he began.

            The boy looked crestfallen. “Is Hound here, then?”

            Hound . . .. _Hmmm_ , _interesting._ “But how would you like to come and stay with me?” The boy nodded vigorously. Iruka smiled. He shunshinned them to his own backyard, deposited Naruto on the veranda beside a shocked looking Kaminari who was cleaning sweet potatoes for dinner and strode into the house to change into his chuunin uniform with a curt, “I’ll be right back.”

**Present . . ..**

            The Sandaime smiled inwardly. He thought it might have taken Iruka-Sensei a bit longer to break, but he wasn’t complaining. He would just like to see the Council try to resist this young chuunin. He wanted to laugh out loud. If the elders thought it difficult to deal with _Kakashi_ in regards to the blond Jinchuuriki, then they were in for one _hell of a surprise_ once this new father got through with them.

            The sensei gently deposited the boy on the couch in the corner, and then rounded on his leader, leaning over the desk and hissing venomously, “Did you know? _Did you know_ , Sandaime?”

            The wizened old hokage sighed and placed his pipe on the table. “We, Hound and I—suspected. But we could never prove anything. The councils—both civilian and shinobi—are full of selfish old geezers with their ‘heads up their asses’—Hound’s expression, not mine. The matron is a ‘cockroachy bitc—‘ well, let’s just say that Hound’s opinion of her isn’t too high either. They even have some members of Anbu who have been letting things slide.”

            Iruka continued to glare unforgivingly at his leader. “I can’t _believe_ you let this happen.”

            The Sandaime sighed. Umino never _had_ had any problems being vaguely (out right . . . .) insubordinate. “As I’ve told you before, my boy, I’m not the be-all, end-all in this town, no matter what I’d like to accomplish. I had Hound on him as often as possible. Snake, Cat and Turtle too, they’re good people. Between the four of them, Naruto has been cared for reasonably well.”

            Iruka glowered. “ _Reasonably well_ isn’t good enough, _sir_.”

            The Sandaime could almost feel the tension. Iruka’s tone could have frozen fire.

            “I agree.”

            “I’m taking him home. I’m _keeping_ him.”

            “I have no doubt.” Iruka nodded tersely. He spun decisively; picked up his new blond charge and the Sandaime resumed smoking his pipe as he watched the strong back disappear through the door (hanging by one hinge).

            “You’re dismissed, I suppose,” he told the empty room.

            He cackled inwardly. Hatake might love the boy and want to take him in—but he was also proud, a rule-follower and controlled his emotions with an iron fist. Umino, on the other hand, had no qualms allowing his emotions to run him. After watching the young father with his newborns for several weeks, a plan had formed in his head—he had been itching to approve Iruka’s Anbu recommendation for this purpose and this purpose alone since the brunet had brought it up. He just knew the gentle (well . . . . sometimes gentle— he conceded) sensei would be a wonderful fit for the young Kyuubi container. Now . . . . All he had to do was deal with Hound once the silver-haired shinobi found out. _That will be fun._ Sigh. _I’m getting too old for this . . . ._


	8. Until I Have Cried Every Last Tear

**Chapter 8: Until I Have Cried Every Last Tear**

            Kakashi was in a foul mood. Yesterday, he had been saddled with a rookie Anbu—from the looks of him, a grown one at that. The man had picked things up quickly, but Kakashi was annoyed nonetheless. The new Anbu—Crow—as it were, had wanted to double-check everything. It shouldn’t be his fucking job to train noobs. He’d missed the release of a new Icha Icha. Now, heading towards the orphanage to visit his favourite person in the world, Kakashi hoped the blond might help him to lighten his mood. Though, he pondered darkly, if he ran into that _bitch_. . . .

            He shook his head to clear his thoughts, coming up on the orphanage. There seemed to be a bit of a commotion, and Kakashi dodged civilian workers and nodded to Turtle as he jogged up the stairs to his blond’s room. Which was . . . . empty. Kakashi’s heart stalled as he cast about the room. No Naruto, no Heno, no sleeping cap, sheets flung half onto the floor. . . . He picked them up in a panic, peeking under the edge of the bed and tossing them haphazardly behind him.

Turtle intoned from the door, “He’s gone, Kakashi-san.”

Kakashi spun around wildly, grabbing his friend by the shirtfront. “What do you mean, _gone_?” Awful images of a lifeless Naruto sprawled on the filthy bed sprang to his head. His voice dropped dangerously low, “Where. Is. My. Boy?”

Turtle calmly unwound Kakashi’s fingers. “Don’t worry, my hip friend. He is safe. He has actually been adopted.”

“ _Adopted_?” He jostled around in agitation. “Who has _my_ boy?”

Turtle took a deep breath. He _really_ wished he wasn’t the one that had to tell Kakashi this. “This morning, a chuunin school teacher—the one who is supposed to receive the boy in September, actually, went on a rampage through the village. Tore into the Hokage Tower, with your sensei’s boy in his arms. He didn’t even ask for an audience—nor demand one for that matter—he simply _went in_ and informed the Hokage that he was keeping the boy. Didn’t ask. Just _told_ the Hokage. And I’ve heard that it worked . . . . The paperwork went through that same afternoon.”

Kakashi’s murderous glare could have curdled ice. Before Turtle could even breathe, the Copy-Nin had disappeared in a puff of smoke and swirl of leaves.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Hiruzen was in the middle of a meeting with representatives from Wind country when an extremely perturbed and murderous looking Copy-Nin landed on one knee in the middle of his desk, electric chakra fairly buzzing around him. He didn’t bother to turn around to address them, but ground out a dangerous, “Get. Out.”

One of his arms was pointed towards the exit and without any second thoughts the delegates scurried out hurriedly. The second they were gone, his hand snapped forward, stopping a mere inch from Hiruzen’s nose.

“You.”

Hiruzen was not a fearful man . . . . But sitting there, a fuming Copy-Nin directing all of his fury towards his person, even the Sandaime began to sweat a little. “Now, Kakashi—“

“I wanted him. You _knew_ I wanted him.” Kakashi settled his hand on Sarutobi’s chest, finger digging in just ever so slightly. “He is my sensei’s son. He is _my last precious person left_. He is my boy. He. Is. My. Boy.” Kakashi’s fingers curled into the Sandaime’s cloak. “How many times have I offered, _asked_ . . . . **_begged_** to adopt him? Raise him as my own? And you give him to that _chuunin_?!”

Hiruzen took a calming breath. “There are reasons, my boy. Kakashi—“ he sighed deeply, sadly. “I wish you could have taken him home, right from that first day. I do. But the council . . . . the council . . . . “ he trailed off, feeling _very_ old.

Kakashi shook his head violently. “I **_hate_** you.” He shunshinned away.

The silver-haired shinobi cried for the first time in over fifteen years as soon as he landed on the floor of his warded apartment. He cried until his voice was hoarse, his throat raw. He cried until his eyes were so puffy they were almost swollen shut. His body convulsed, spasmed as he sobbed, dry heaving into the scratchy carpet. He screamed. Screamed until his lips cracked, dry, streaked with blood. Then he drank. He drank until he passed out that night.

The second day, he smashed every dish in his cupboards. When he stepped through the shards to go back to the living area, he didn’t even feel it. He had started on the photo frames when he looked down and found one of his sensei and wife in his hands. He fell to his knees clutching it and continued to let out all of his pent-up grief. After nearly two decades as a shinobi, Kakashi was breaking for the first time.

He didn’t leave his apartment for a month. He only ate when Gai came over and hand fed him. He sent clones out to sneak more alcohol past his unofficial ‘guard.’ He didn’t bathe. Barely slept. Kept the curtains drawn. Didn’t even visit the memorial stone.

After a month, Hiruzen sent in Crow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Iruka had spent the last month spoiling Naruto. In his defence, he was trying to counter nearly ten years of neglect and abuse. He had noticed, walking through the village with Naruto, that people who normally would greet him and smile had stopped. They received more glares and cold shoulders. Their fucking loss, he’d think. At first, the boy—small for his age and nervous, would hide behind his new guardian. Jump at loud noises, sniff his food as if he didn’t trust it, flinch away from agitated vendors. He slept every night in Iruka’s bed and Iruka just couldn’t refuse him . . . . The boy was like a dry sponge—soaking up any love and attention thrown his way. Iruka wished the haunted look would leave his eyes, wished he didn’t always look as if he thought Iruka would all of a sudden withdraw from him. And he loved the triplets; oh did that boy love his three newfound siblings. Iruka would often find him just staring down into the bassinet, stroking one of their cheeks gently. It always brought a smile to his face.

            The brunet found that as the boy opened up more to him, that it was amazing how much they had in common. He also learned quite a bit about the boy’s favourite ‘super-hero’—the Anbu Hound. Iruka vowed to learn more about the enigmatic Anbu if ever he had the chance. From what he could gather, that man was the main reason his adopted son was alive after ten years in the Hidden Leaf Village. When Iruka had asked if Naruto needed any of his belongings from the orphanage, he had told him that he only had two—and he’d been clutching his Scarecrow doll named Heno already when they’d left. The only thing he wanted to go back for was the long sleeping cap he liked to wear at night, both birthday gifts from the elusive Hound. The others had all been destroyed by villagers. Iruka was indignant, for both his boy and the Hound. How _dare_ the villagers. He had bought the boy a dolphin doll and a fluffy shuriken print blanket that same day—material things couldn’t make up for loss, he knew—but told the boy that he deserved nice things.

            It was during a picnic in their backyard that Iruka received the summons. A hawk had arrived from the Hokage requesting an immediate audience, and the second Iruka had taken the scroll in his hand, he had felt his Anbu tattoo flare to life in response to the seal on the piece of parchment. _So it was that kind of mission, then._

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            The Sandaime had informed Crow that his mission would be in the village. Apparently, an Anbu operative had broken, and since the wards on his apartment were some of the most complicated in the Village Hidden in the Leaf, he had requested Iruka to break in and help the man. Iruka was warned that he was Jounin-level and possibly hostile. Sandaime had warned Turtle to stay away before he gave Iruka the assignment and prayed that he was doing the right thing.

            Iruka had scoffed that anyone would have traps and wards that strong within their own village, but as he approached the door of the apartment, he revised his opinion and contemplated how paranoid his assignment must be. Then he looked at the address—and from years behind the Missions Desk—realised that they had sent him to Hatake Kakashi’s home. The Copy-Nin. _Holy shit_ —Sandaime expected him to deal with a _broken Copy-Nin? He was fucked. So fucking fucked_. He took a deep breath and kneeled in front of the sealed door. 


	9. Maybe I Don't Understand

**Chapter 9: Maybe I Don’t Understand**

            It had taken about an hour to break through the Jounin’s traps—Iruka was very impressed, as it usually took him less than fifteen minutes to get in somewhere. He summoned several clones, had them put an ear to each window and one to the door and then he whistled through the glass, waiting for the echoes to bounce off and help him to create an image of the space in his mind. It was a bachelor apartment, the living area, kitchen and sleeping area all joined. The only separate room was the bathroom. There was what Iruka supposed was Kakashi—a roughly man-sized and shaped lump in front of a kotatsu on the floor and no other signs of life. He flared his chakra in a ‘peaceful approach’ pattern specific to Konoha nins, held his breath and pushed open the door.

            The first thing he noticed was that it was dark. The shades were all pulled, there were no lamps and the light was off. He couldn’t even hear the hum of the refrigerator. Secondly, as he slowly exhaled and then inhaled, the rank odour assaulted his senses. There was definitely alcohol, dust, mould, and traces of bile, blood, must and sickness. He blew out forcefully and took a first careful step inside.

            The Kakashi-lump on the floor showed no signs of movement and Iruka paused to watch for breathing. Unable to detect it from the door, he quickly but cautiously (an injured jounin was still dangerous—possibly more so than a healthy one if they weren’t in their right mind) and placed his fingers to check for a pulse. Thank God there was one, but the shinobi’s breathing was laboured and shallow. Running his green healing chakra over the prone form, Iruka took stock of the situation. Hatake was in worse condition than even Naruto had been when the brunet had whisked him away from the orphanage.

            Iruka called his clones in and had one pull back all the shades to let light in, another set to work changing the bedclothes, while still another went to run a warm bath and a last one began to sweep up what seemed like broken glass and ceramic everywhere. Iruka placed his field kit on the kotatsu and pushed it open, rolling the unconscious Hatake onto his back to complete his assessment with a visual once-over. The slim silver-haired shinobi—usually what Iruka would describe as lithe—was positively skeletal. On top of which, the man noted, he had a severe infection from several deep cuts on the bottoms of his feet that appeared to have gone untreated. The Copy-Nin smelled of sweat and the sickly sweet aroma of medicinal herbs with an undercurrent of sharp antiseptic. _Someone_ else must have been here at one point trying to coax the Copy-Nin back to life. Well, it was up to Iruka now. He summoned another round of clones.

            Iruka sent the first to clean the kitchen, another to wash some laundry, still another to purchase groceries and finally, one to close the door so that Iruka could take his mask off to see and breathe properly. He doubted that in this condition Hatake would be lucid enough to realise there was another human being in his vicinity—much less recognise him. He dropped it back in place quickly, however, when he heard an approaching scratchy ticking from the hall. The clone still near the door peeked out and opened it fractionally to permit one of the Copy-Nin’s dog summons to enter. The small pug took in everything around himself and then addressed Iruka.

            “Anbu-san.” He nodded.

            Iruka responded, “Crow.”

            “Crow-san, the Boss has been like this for a long while. He wouldn’t even let me hunt any food for him. Ridiculous human boy.”

            Iruka nodded, frowning behind his mask. “Hatake-san had the presence of mind to summon you?”

            Pakkun, as the dog introduced himself, shook his head negatively. “He did it by accident while he was drunk. The cuts drew enough blood that when he cried my name,” the pug indicated a photo with his nose that had the pug, the Yondaime and a young Kakashi in it, “probably because he was looking at that, I popped over here.” He surveyed the room solemnly. “I may not have thumbs, but I didn’t think I should leave him like this.”

            Iruka shook his head. “You did the right thing, Pakkun-san.” He took the washcloth and basin his clone offered him and continued as he began dripping water over Hatake’s feet, “You made the right choice. I’m going to be taking care of him, but you are more than welcome to stay.”

            The pug nodded. “Thank you, Crow-san. You can just call me Pakkun. You are a summoner as well. I can smell it on you. Is there anything you need help with since I’m here?”

            Iruka nodded again. “I am, yes. Most people don’t know that about me though. Would you be willing to report to our Hokage that I may be a while, but that your boss is alive at least?”

            Pakkun nodded. “Yes, sir.”

            Iruka took stock of the debris littering Kakashi’s feet once enough water had cleaned the blood away. He clucked, thinking to himself that his brothers would call him a mother hen for it and then began picking out the pieces of ceramic and glass with tweezers. “Thank you, Pakkun,” he murmured absently as the small dog trotted off.

            Since the Hatake was in such bad shape, he knew it would take longer than just the day to set him to rights. A plan was forming, one that would make it much easier to take care of the man.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            When Pakkun returned, Iruka and his clones had already tidied the apartment, aired it out and had Kakashi in a warm tub. Iruka—wanting to be considerate of the man’s privacy—had left the dirty mask on, but asked the pug to fetch him a clean one. The pug had cocked his head to the side, looking at him funny, then trotted off to do as he was bidden.

            When he dropped the mask into Iruka’s waiting palm, he spoke. “You surprise me, Crow-san.”

            Iruka turned his masked face towards the pug. “Why?”

            Pakkun nodded towards Kakashi. “Boss’s face is one of the most well hidden things in this village, Crow-san. Most people, even other Anbu—would be more than happy to take advantage of his state. Instead, you intend to keep his mask on.” The pug nodded in approval. “I like you, Crow-san.”

            Iruka smiled under his mask, though he knew the dog wouldn’t be able to see it. “Thank you, Pakkun.” He scratched his head. “But I have hidden things too and I understand. It would be wrong of me to take advantage of that.”

            The pug continued to watch Iruka work. He studied Iruka’s mask.

            “What do you summon?”

            Iruka smiled again. He wasn’t used to having his emotions hidden by a mask—perhaps Hatake was on to something after all, he laughed internally. “That is one of my secrets.” He wished Pakkun could see him wink.

            Pakkun nodded. “I’m just curious. You are keeping the Boss’s face private. I can keep your secret, Crow-san.”

            As Iruka and a clone lifted Hatake and wrapped him in a towel to carry him to the bed, Iruka turned slightly towards the dog. “I summon crows.”

            The pug barked out a sharp laugh. “That is funny, Crow-san.” He cocked his head. “Though, I must say, you humans are quite unimaginative.”

            “Why would you say that?” Iruka carefully slid a pair of sleep pants onto the slim Hatake before going to bandage his feet properly.

            “A Crow summons crows, Snake-san summons snakes, Turtle-san summons a tortoise . . . .” he began to list. “Very unoriginal. Only Cat-san I can think of that does not. I thought Anbu are trained to conceal their identities?”

            The gauze, scissors and medical cream clattered to the floor as the wheels in Iruka’s mind turned. He slid appraising eyes over the passed out nin, stopping at the shock of silver hair. You could see a person’s hair even with an Anbu mask on—one reason Iruka chose to braid his when serving as Anbu and sport a ponytail other times. Hiruzen had said Iruka was called in because the man was Anbu. He breathed out quietly, “ _Hound._ ”

            Iruka looked over the man once again, though more tenderly this time, knowing this was the man that had cared for his Naruto.

            “Sorry?” Pakkun pawed the ground, “Did you say something, Crow-san?”

            Iruka didn’t think Pakkun realised he had helped Iruka solve a mystery. “No. No, sorry. I was just musing to myself.” He turned to Pakkun. “You can. . . . smell me, right?”

            Pakkun made a comical face. “You want me to smell you, Crow-san?”

            Iruka shook his head. “No. I mean, you mentioned earlier that I _smell_ like a summoner. What does that smell like?”

            Pakkun considered. “It smells like. . . . The air in the summoning plane. It clings to summoners.”

            Iruka nodded. “So, you’d be able to smell who I was if you encountered me in the village, with or without my crow mask, correct?”

            The dog nodded.

            “Would it be fair to assume that you and your Boss know most of the Anbu operatives’ identities because of that even though he’s not supposed to?”

            Pakkun hesitated, but nodded.

            Iruka took his gloves off, then spoke, reaching for his mask to do the same. “I don’t suppose it makes a difference then if I wear this around you, then.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement, but Pakkun nodded. Iruka pushed the mask up and over his face. Pakkun cocked his head to the side. “You are the chuunin schoolteacher, Umino Iruka.”

Iruka nodded.

“You worked with the Boss once.” Pakkun licked a paw, adding, “He thought you were boring.”

Iruka turned startled eyes on the dog. He wasn’t very tactful . . . . Though given Hatake’s own disposition, that wasn’t unbelievable.

The brunet responded drily, “Gee, thanks.”

Pakkun nodded, missing the sarcasm. “It looks like you have everything under control, now, Umino-san. Would you mind if I left now? I have been in this plane far too long for my liking.”

Iruka nodded. “Yes, Pakkun. That would be all right.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

                        Since Pakkun had left, Iruka had administered several medications to counter the infection and nourish the Hatake’s spent body. He had hunted down and disposed of every last drop of alcohol in the apartment, frowning at each and wondering what had driven the Copy-Nin to the breaking point.

            He was now in the kitchen, preparing some tea and a broth for the Copy-Nin. He heard some shuffling noises behind him and heard his clone call—“Crow!”

            He slid his mask back into place—he figured Pakkun would eventually rat him out to Hatake, but that was no reason to break the rules. He made his way over to the bed, where Kakashi was struggling weakly against the two Crow-clones holding him down.

            “Please, Hatake-san, don’t struggle. I’m here to help you.”

            He waved the clones off and took a seat on the bed beside the silver-haired man, brushing some hair out of his eyes. The other shinobi latched his hands weakly onto the brunet’s uniform shirt. “You don’t understand,” he rasped, “I don’t need help. Leave me alone, Crow. Let me be. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s gone.” The silver-haired nin sunk to the bed forlornly. “I . . . . I have no chance of keeping him now. He took him away. He _took_ him!”

            Iruka rubbed his back soothingly as the Copy-Nin curled slightly into the fetal position. He spoke softly, “Who’s gone, Hatake-san?”

            Tear-heavy eyes turned to Iruka dejectedly. “My most precious person,” was the whispered reply.

            Iruka continued to rub soothing circles on Kakashi’s back. He combed his fingers through his hair. “It’ll be all right, Hatake-san. It’ll be all right . . . . I’m going to help you.”

            Iruka didn’t quite understand what the Copy-Nin meant, but he patted him on the arm. “I’m going to get you something to eat, Hatake-san. I’ll be right back.”

            He crossed the room in a coupe strides, placing everything onto a tray as the other nin spoke. “I don’t want to eat.”

            Iruka sunk down on the bed beside the silver-haired man, pulled him into a sitting position facing himself. “You’re going to eat.” He used his no-nonsense teacher voice.

            Hatake frowned, he even crossed his arms. “I’m _not_ eating.” He turned his face away from Iruka.

            Iruka frowned back, though Kakashi couldn’t see it under his Crow mask. “You _will_ eat, Hatake-san, don’t test me.” He reached out, pulling Kakashi’s chin to face him.

            “Your _only_ option is whether you want to eat with or without your mask.” Iruka’s tone was final and brokered no arguments.

            Kakashi sighed and Iruka could see a pout form under the mask. “I’m not taking it off.”

            “Fine.” The brunet raised a spoonful of steaming soup to the lips behind the mask. “Don’t worry, it’s a clean one. You can sip through it, I had Pakkun change it.”

            Kakashi’s eyes widened in surprise. He lifted a weak hand to touch his mask, almost as if he was so used to it that he was just realising it was there. He looked incredulously at Crow. “You didn’t look at my face?”

            Iruka shook his head. He brought the spoon closer to Kakashi, pressed it against his lips a bit more insistently. “Now eat, Hatake-san.”

            Kakashi, regarding Crow with a little incredulity—and perhaps, Iruka noted, a bit of respect, complied, sucking the warm liquid down his throat. It burned a little, but it tasted good. He uncrossed his arms and sat a little straighter. Maybe it was time to suck it up—be a shinobi again.

            As Iruka continued to feed him, Kakashi took the man’s appearance in. Average height, average build, maybe a little on the huskier side. Dark hair—long and worn in an intricate braid and darker skin than Kakashi. So average that Kakashi had a hard time guessing who might be behind the mask. “They sent a rookie into the Copy-Nin’s territory?”

            Iruka paused his actions, holding the spoon just above the bowl. “I specialise in breaking and entering.”

            Kakashi pulled the tray towards himself and picked up the teacup. “How long did it take you to get through my wards?”

            “Just under an hour.” Iruka put the spoon down. He could almost see Kakashi thinking.

            “Under, really?”

            Iruka nodded.

            “I once had my Sensei try it, you know. Just to see.”

            Iruka waited patiently as Kakashi sipped the tea. “It took him nearly two.”

            The brunet could feel Kakashi assessing him, gaze heavy and curious. Kakashi decided to himself that he wouldn’t ask Pakkun who this particular Anbu was. If he ever found out, he decided, he wanted to do it on his own.

            Iruka, feeling as though he had possibly just gained the Copy-Nin’s approval, decided to push a little. “Who is your most precious person, Hatake-san? Who is gone?”

            Kakashi’s eyes darkened fractionally. He put his teacup down on the tray. “My boy.”

            Iruka quirked his head to the side. “Your boy?”

            Kakashi avoided Crow’s gaze. He stared straight ahead. “I was supposed to adopt him.”

            Kakashi picked at the clean sheet. “I was supposed to adopt him and now I can’t. He’s gone. That . . . . That schoolteacher took him.”

            Iruka tried not to suck in his breath as everything clicked into place. Hatake Kakashi’s sensei had been the Yondaime Hokage. Blond-haired, blue-eyed. Blond-haired and blue-eyed like his Naruto—like his Naruto that he’d adopted a month ago. The Sandaime had said this mission was critical because the Anbu had broken a month ago. Crow realised that _he had broken when Iruka adopted Naruto_. He had adopted the Yondaime Hokage’s kid.

            Iruka couldn’t breathe. Iruka had taken his boy. Iruka had _broken_ the Copy-Nin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Iruka gulped. He ran a hand through his loose hairs, the ones that had fallen from his braid. It had been difficult—working to make the Copy-Nin better when he knew what he now knew. He struggled, because he knew he had done the right thing. He _couldn’t_ have left Naruto there and after considering the situation, he _knew_ that the Sandaime _had_ done it on purpose—knew that neither of the councils would ever have let Kakashi have the boy anyways . . . . But he still felt guilty.

            As Kakashi’s health improved, Iruka had tried to convince him to visit Naruto—to go and talk to the schoolteacher (and damn, did it feel weird to discuss yourself in the third person as if you were someone else), but Kakashi—for reasons unknown—refused. Iruka was beginning to get the sneaking suspicion that Kakashi was afraid he would be unwelcomed. That Naruto wouldn’t want him.

            _Heavens, he did not understand this man._ But he was determined to get Kakashi to visit his home before he left him alone. Kakashi had been heavily discouraged from visiting Naruto by the councils—the majority of his relationship with the boy was through Hound. So finally, in exasperation, Iruka had thrown his hands up in the air and shouted at the obtuse Copy-Nin.

            “Then go to the damn house as Hound!” Kakashi’s head zipped up from looking at his sheet.

            “You know who I am?”

“Not many people have silver hair, Hatake-san. And Sharingan-No-Kakashi summons _dogs_ . . . . Not very original to call yourself ‘Hound,’ ne?”

Kakashi pouted behind his mask. But Iruka ignored him. Iruka wasn’t finished.

            “You may think he’s only a chuunin and that he’s boring, but Umino Iruka is a shinobi, Hatake-san. He knows how important a shinobi’s precious people are to them. You are going to go to that house and you are going to ask him to visit your boy and you are not going to argue with me. If I hear otherwise, I will be back here to deal with you. Do you understand?”

            Kakashi nodded. 


	10. Wake Me Up

**Chapter 10: Wake Me Up**

            Iruka had left Kakashi the previous day and had taken Crow’s report directly to the Hokage. He had told the manipulative old man that if he was going to meddle in their lives, then he might as well fix his mess—and yes, Iruka assured the old man—since he had orchestrated the whole thing it was Hiruzen’s fault. Iruka’s recommendation was that Kakashi be remanded to ‘communal habitation’ under the guise of continued psychological evaluation—believable story for a nin that had recently broken, only Iruka insisted that Hatake be remanded into his custody (as Iruka, not Crow). He explained that helping build the Copy-Nin back up would make him feel less guilty for being a part of breaking him—and here he turned the puppy-dog eyes on Hiruzen—and that then the council could not stop him from spending time with Naruto even if they tried.

            Hiruzen smiled inwardly. He knew he had made the right decision.

Now, he didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry, because Hatake had been loitering around his front gate all morning (dressed as Hound), obviously not being able to make up his mind whether to come to the door or not.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Crow had told him that he should visit Naruto, but he had also said that he would probably need to visit the Sandaime to debrief. Kakashi didn’t _feel_ like visiting the Hokage. He didn’t _want_ to talk about his break. He _wanted_ to punch Hiruzen in the gut, but the council would have his head for that. He also didn’t quite believe Crow. If the schoolteacher was such a damn force of nature that he had swept through the village and just spirited the boy away from the orphanage, then what the hell made Crow think the man would let an Anbu anywhere near his adopted son?

            Kakashi realised he was being creepy. He realised that stalking up and down the road in front of the schoolteacher’s house was ridiculous. But he just couldn’t make his feet cross the gate. He could make out someone peering at him from the curtains.

            Iruka peered out the curtains and sighed. That mutt was obviously not going to move his ass on his own anytime soon. He grinned. He called Naruto.

            The energetic boy pounded down the stairs and then came careening into the room to stop in front of Iruka. “Ya?”

            Iruka nodded towards the window. “Do you remember telling me about your friend, Hound?”

            The blond nodded emphatically.

            Iruka pulled the curtains back a little and tilted his head towards the window. Naruto copied him and peered out. Iruka smiled at the instant reaction. Blue eyes blew wide in surprise. Iruka played innocent. “That isn’t him, by any chance, is it?”

            Naruto gripped the windowsill and nodded so hard Iruka feared he might give himself whiplash.

            Iruka placed a hand gently on Naruto’s shoulder, and the boy looked up at him with round eyes. “It looks like maybe he just found out you’re here and not at the orphanage anymore. Would you like to invite him in?”

            Naruto looked incredulous. “I . . . . I can invite him in?”

            Iruka nodded, flipping the dishtowel in his hands over his shoulder and kissing the blond on the back of the head. He threw over his shoulder as he headed back into the kitchen, “You can even invite him for dinner, if you’d like.”

            Naruto was running outside before Iruka had even finished the sentence. He laughed warmly. He was so happy that he had met that boy. Naruto was nothing like Iruka had ever imagined the Kyuubi container to be. He was sunshine personified—and when he smiled—oh, when he smiled, that boy could light up the whole world. Iruka paused in the doorway to peer out and watch the pair interact.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Shortly after Kakashi had seen the curtains flutter, they had opened and he caught sight of a familiar set of blue eyes peering over the sill, a tan hand on the boy’s shoulder and a ponytailed chuunin connected to said hand. Kakashi tried not to scowl. Seconds later, they both disappeared from the window. Kakashi slumped. He didn’t think he could do this.

            His dark eyes snapped back up to the house when he heard the door slam open and Naruto came careening down the path, hollering at the top of his lungs, “Hooooooound!!!!!”

            Kakashi ‘ooooff’ed as the blond launched himself into his midsection and held on tight.

            “Touchan said I could ask you for supper. So you’re going to stay, right?” Blue eyes looked up at him. “Right?”

            “Touchan?” Kakashi had to admit that the boy looked much better than he’d ever seen him. He had more colour in his cheeks and though he was still short for his age, he had filled out a lot. Kakashi, though he knew the boy had an exuberant disposition, had usually held him as he cried or protected him from angry mobs. To see him so happy and carefree made Kakashi’s heart tighten a little. _He_ should have been the one to make him that happy.

            The blond scuffed his toes on the ground. “Iruka adopted me. He said I could call him Iruka, or Nii-san or Oji or Tousan or whatever I wanted.” He looked up at Kakashi shyly. “I said I’d like to call him Touchan, like how Shikamaru and Hinata call their papas, and he said he’d be honoured. He’s _honoured_ , Hound, that he adopted me. Isn’t that great? I can be just like the other kids from the Academy. I have a touchan!” The boy’s smile was almost blinding. Kakashi peered up at the house, seeing the chuunin watching from the door and though he still didn’t _like_ the schoolteacher, he felt that _maybe_ some of the ice he’d directed at the brunet was maybe, only a tiny bit, melting.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. Maybe. He allowed Naruto to pull him by the hand into the house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            It was tense and awkward and Kakashi wasn’t eating because he had his Hound mask on—instead he sat at the table with his arms crossed and he snorted derisively at half of what Iruka had to say and because of that, Kaminari kept glaring at him . . . . but Naruto was ecstatic that both his new family _and_ his best friend were there, so Iruka was happy. All in all, the brunet conceded in his own mind, for a first visit it was good. Well, _okay_ , but they’d get there one day.

            As the blond boy continued to catch Hound up all about his life for the last month, Iruka heard the triplets starting to fuss in the other room and excused himself. Out of habit, he kissed the blond on the head on his way out and squeezed Kaminari’s hand.

“I’ve got it,” he smiled at her.

Kakashi glared at Iruka under his mask when he saw him kiss the blond Jinchuuriki’s head, especially since the boy looked up at him and positively beamed in response.

The silver-haired shinobi uncrossed his arms and slid one hand towards Naruto, picking up Heno from on the table where the boy had dropped him so he could eat. Kakashi smiled under his mask.

“You still have him.”

Naruto dropped his chopsticks on the plate with a clatter. “Of course,” he chirped.

Kakashi stroked the scarecrow’s straw hair. “He’s getting a bit worn.” His smile turned wistful under his mask. _So are you_ , his mind supplied helpfully. _Scarecrows of a feather_ , inner-Kakashi cackled. He let the doll go.

“I got a new one, too,” Naruto crowed, “I’ll be right back!” he bolted from the room, brushing past Iruka who was on the way back with a four-month-old Minkusui in his arms.

Kakashi eyed the man and his daughter. The brunet reclaimed his seat. “Sorry about that, Hound-san. Babies wait for no one,” he laughed, “where’s Naruto going?”

Kakashi shrugged. He watched as Iruka juggled his daughter while still managing to eat (and not spill). For a chuunin, he conceded, he _was_ fairly graceful.

A second later, the Copy-Nin’s ire and spite returned with a vengeance as Naruto plopped back down with a brand-new dolphin in his hand and a triumphant, “See! “ He offered the stuffed animal up for Kakashi’s inspection. “A dolphin, just like Touchan!”

Kakashi frowned. _Just like Touchan indeed_. Outwardly, he patted Naruto on the hand. Then he stood and made his excuses. He did _not_ have to sit here for this shit.

At least, he told himself as he stalked out of the schoolteacher’s yard, it looked like Umino would tolerate visitation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Kakashi didn’t bother changing out of his Anbu uniform to go to his debrief with the Hokage.

            Hiruzen eyed the young man warily as he entered in full Anbu gear. “Expecting me to send you on a mission so soon, Kakashi?”

            Kakashi slid his mask up and glared, deadpan, at his Hokage. “Not that it is your business, Hokage-sama, but since my boy has been removed from the orphanage, I have had to walk around the village in uniform, so that I may visit him.”

            _Hmmm._ The Hatake had never been this close to insubordinate before. _Interesting._ Hiruzen wondered if spending time with the wilful and occasionally recalcitrant Iruka would exacerbate that particular quality. He hoped not. _God help him if those two ever joined forces_.

            “Listen, Kakashi. I am still concerned about the state of your mental health after this incident. As per regulations, you will be monitored closely until I am certain of your psychological state. I know you have always wished that you could build a relationship with Naruto as yourself and not only as Hound. In light of this, I am assigning Umino Iruka as your handler until I feel that you have completely healed. It will be assigned to him as a mission and I expect you to report to his home by nightfall. I will take care of informing him of this mission. It will last until I feel that you are well. You will be staying there whenever you are in the village. It will be your home for the foreseeable future, brat, so I expect no trouble from you. _Do you understand_?”

            Though he was both reeling and raging on the inside, Kakashi was a well-trained jounin solider. He showed no outward reaction and resigned himself to accepting his orders with a tight-lipped and curt, “Yes, Hokage-Sama.”

            He turned abruptly and stalked out. Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck.


	11. Sharing a Room

**Chapter 11: Sharing a Room**

            Kakashi packed up his belongings in a couple of sealing scrolls. He doubted the chuunin sensei would be particularly happy with a houseguest, particularly Kakashi; so he spent another half hour loitering at Umino’s gate—only this time dressed as the Copy-Nin and not Hound. Finally, he sighed and slid to the ground, his back leaning on the white picket fence.

            He had been dozing there for a good half an hour when he sensed someone approaching from the house. The pony-tailed chuunin appeared in his peripheral vision.

            “May I?”

            Kakashi shrugged. “It’s your yard.”

            The chuunin heaved a put-upon sigh as he sat. There were many things he wanted to say. ‘It’s yours right now too,’ ‘Are you going to come in,’ ‘I know you’re going through a rough patch,’ he knew some of them wouldn’t be received very well and others weren’t the best option at the moment.

He settled on, “I told Naruto and Kaminari that we’d be having a guest.” Iruka glanced at Kakashi sideways. “You’ll have to be patient with us, Hatake-san. The kids are loud, they’re messy—Kaminari and I tend to leave our work scattered all over the place . . . . But we’re happy to have you.” He added slyly, “And I hope you have no aversions to sharing a space with an Anbu.”

Kakashi, slightly intrigued, turned his upper body to face the chuunin, obvious disbelief colouring his visible features. “Are you an _Anbu_ , Umino-san?”

Iruka laughed, “I asked Naruto if he’d like to save a room for Hound.” He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up slightly. “We haven’t extended him the invitation yet, but Hound is one of Naruto’s precious people and I want him to feel welcome in our home. I . . . . Well, from what I’ve heard, he’s also the reason Naruto survived. I owe Hound a great debt. I admire him greatly. If he hadn’t left so abruptly this evening, I’d like to have told him—no, _promise_ him to take care of his boy.” Iruka shook his head wistfully. “ _Our_ boy. To tell him I’d like to be friends. I hope he returns.” He smiled at Kakashi.

Kakashi briefly wondered if the sensei _knew_ , then brushed it off. How would a chuunin schoolteacher know that Sharingan-No-Kakashi, famed Copy-Ninja, man of a thousand jutsus, was the Anbu Hound? He shook his head.

“Well?” Iruka inclined his head in the direction of the house. “Are you coming in?”

Kakashi nodded and stood up. Iruka did the same and dusted his pants off. “We’ll have to be quiet. The kids and Nari-chan are all sleeping.” He smiled at Kakashi and motioned him through the gate first. “Welcome home, Hatake-san.”

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To reassure the very private man, perhaps put him at ease and make it a little more comfortable for him, Iruka told him, “Sandaime told me you needed a place to stay for a while. He didn’t say much except that I should help you with whatever you need.”

Kakashi nodded. He’d never broken before, so he didn’t know all of the protocols, but he hoped that meant that Umino didn’t know why exactly he was there. Watching the man lead him to his room, he decided that he mustn’t know, otherwise he wouldn’t accept a washed-out drunk into his home with his children.

            Umino had shown him around downstairs, there was a living area, a kitchen (which opened onto a veranda overlooking a large backyard), a dining area, a study (it looked more like a miniature library—Kakashi figured it was a teacher thing), a laundry room and a downstairs washroom. Upstairs, he had pointed out Naruto’s room (often empty because he snuck into Iruka’s room), the chuunin’s own master bedroom (that the triplets, and often, Naruto, shared at the moment; apparently it also had a master bath), Kaminari’s room (Kakashi had thought they would share, but then guessed it was because Umino still thought she was young—he assumed that while the chuunin would suck it up and sleep with her for a mission, he was far too proper to keep up a relationship with her outside of mission parameters—though given their rapport he also concluded that it was only a matter of time and eventually they would be married, what with having children together already and all), an upstairs bathroom, ‘Kakashi’s’ room and an empty guest suite (meaning it had a bathroom as well) beside it (Iruka noted to the older nin that was the one they intended to offer Hound). Umino pointed out that Kaminari and Naruto shared the upstairs bath, so if Kakashi wanted, he was more than welcome to use the master bath or share with Hound.

            Iruka followed Kakashi into his room, pulling out a set of towels and an extra blanket from the linen closet and depositing them on the bed.

            “Sandaime said nothing about your schedule, but I assume you will be taking missions as usual. He did not say it is a requirement that you do anything in particular, but just so that you are aware, Hatake-san, as long as you live under my roof, then I will expect you to join us for breakfast and dinner when you are home. If you have another engagement, please let me know ahead of time. Also, if you have any special requests or food allergies, you could tell me now or write me a list.”

            Kakashi nodded. He put the bag containing his scrolls on the floor. The sensei continued.

            “I need to do the kids’ laundry fairly often, so if you have no objections, you can choose any one day of the week to do your laundry—except Tuesdays because Nari-chan has claimed them—and I will make sure the laundry room is ready for you for that day, so that I can use the laundry room the rest of the week.” Iruka looked the Copy-Nin over and thought he looked a bit exhausted. “Am I overloading you with too much information?”

            The Copy-Nin shook his head. “No, it’s fine.”

            Iruka nodded and continued, “Good. Then just a few more things. You are welcome to use the study, but if you do, please keep your stuff organised—I have Academy things all over and wouldn’t want an important or classified document getting mixed up. As long as you don’t kill my trees, you can do light training in the backyard and if you would ever like a sparring partner, I’d be happy to oblige you. I have noise dampening seals on my bedroom, so you shouldn’t hear the kids at night.”

            Kakashi nodded again and removed his flak jacket, laying it over the back of a nearby chair.

            Iruka continued, “I’d prefer it if you read your, um . . . . _novels,_ that you keep them locked in your own room. And I’ve heard that you like to return to Konoha with extreme chakra depletion, so . . . . if that happens, or you’re hurt, I’d like it if you came and got me instead of passing out on the floor. I don’t need a Hatake-san-lump all feverish and passed out by the kotatsu. All right?”

            The last request surprised the silver-haired shinobi a bit (he wondered for the second time if the sensei knew more than was let on), as did the sparring offer and the thinly veiled _order_ to show up for meals; but he supposed that as a teacher, Umino was used to giving orders and being listened to. Also, he was fairly soft, so tending to someone’s injuries did seem like something that would be right up his alley.

            They stood in silence for a minute, then Iruka added as a last thought, “Is there anything I can get you before we turn in, Hatake-san?”

            Kakashi shook his head no.

            “All right, then. I hope you sleep well.” The chuunin reached over and patted his arm—a bit too familiar and affectionately—and Kakashi sighed resignedly. It looked like the sensei was a hugger type. Yay.

            Once the brunet left, Kakashi didn’t bother to change. He simply walked over to the bed and lay down to sleep. It had been one hell of a long day. As he fell asleep, Kakashi wondered at Umino’s lack of warnings about his children. He had expected to hear more than just ‘keep your dirty porn books in your room,’ had been expecting something more along the lines of, ‘don’t let them catch you dripping with blood, don’t talk to them when I’m not home, don’t leave sharp kunai lying around, don’t blah, blah, blah.’ Not that he minded that the chuunin had stopped talking, mind you. But either the man was a lot more relaxed than Kakashi thought, or he didn’t give as big a damn as he’d thought. It _couldn’t_ be because he trusted the silver-haired shinobi . . . . It almost felt like Umino knew something he didn’t. He didn’t like the feeling. Kakashi fell into an uneasy sleep.

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A.N. I know the layout is of a typical upper middle class North American home and not a Japanese one, but I’m not entirely sure how a Japanese home would be setup as compared.


	12. Too Close For Comfort

**Chapter 12: Too Close For Comfort**

            The first time Umino did it, Kakashi was both surprised and uncomfortable.

            The silver-haired shinobi had been living there about a month. The brunet was dealing with three hollering babies and had plunked one into Kakashi’s lap in unceremonious impatient exasperation. “Here, _you_ hold her.”

            Kakashi, who had been reading about a new jutsu, stared at the five-month-old. She was holding her own head up (Kakashi wasn’t that familiar with babies, he’d only ever held one before and that was Naruto—and while he was a boisterous child, he had been a calm and quiet infant—not to mention, that was a decade ago)—but he thought perhaps that was a bit early to have such muscle control. He regarded her quietly and she looked back, just as serious. Kakashi thought that perhaps this was the one called Kawauso, but he wasn’t entirely certain—she did seem to be the most agreeable of the three infants. If she had this muscle control, he thought again that she would make a fair kunoichi one day. He placed his book to the side and tentatively wrapped one arm behind her so she wouldn’t fall. He stared at her awkwardly. She reached up a tiny hand and touched his mask. Kakashi tried very hard not to flinch and pull away—no need to infuriate the brunet chuunin for making his daughter cry. She babbled incoherently and smiled at him, rubbing her tiny hand all over his mask. Kakashi melted just a little as she smiled at him, and though she couldn’t see it; he returned the smile under his mask.

            She didn’t see it—but Iruka did, from across the room changing Fuchikari’s diaper—just a twitch in the mask’s fabric, but he smiled to himself. The more time he spent with the Copy-Nin, the easier he could see past the cold-blooded front the man presented to everyone else and the more he enjoyed his company.

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            The first time Iruka felt it, he knew he was in trouble. Kakashi had been staying with them for two months already, nearly three and had continued to make appearances as Hound. Iruka was up late grading papers, so he’d told Naruto to go to sleep in his own room, as he didn’t want him to stay up waiting for the chuunin to go to bed. Instead, as he found when he walked past Hound’s room, the blond had crawled into bed with the silver-haired Anbu, who was awake and had one arm wrapped protectively around the boy. Iruka stopped in the doorway and the two men had locked eyes.

            As Iruka smiled and waved faintly, Hound had nodded to him and Iruka felt his heart tug, watching the man watch over their boy so gently. As he walked away, the brunet realised that the pang meant he was getting emotionally attached. He sighed. That was not good—not only had he always been under the impression that Hatake was straight—or more likely, asexual—but there was so much at stake for Naruto and Hound that Iruka pursuing a relationship with the man could sour everything. He scrubbed his face tiredly and tried to quell the attraction. Iruka had always been attracted to a man as a person first and physical attraction had followed after—so from that point on, he tried his best to avoid looking at the attractive jounin.

            It was hard though, the longer Kakashi stayed and became a part of Iruka’s daily life.

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            The first time Iruka did it, he blamed it on lack of sleep . . . . and really, being a single parent for the last six months meant that he hadn’t had an intimate relationship in at least that long. Over six months was a long time for a healthy man of twenty to go without sex.

            He was locked in his en suite bathroom, immersed in a warm bath, the kids all asleep—Naruto in Hound’s room again. He had slowly let his hand sneak down to his groin, stroking his half-hard cock to full attention – but he paused to let out a wave of chakra to make sure they were all truly asleep before losing himself in his own pleasure. All four of his kids chakras showed they were out like lights and Nari-chan was at Hana’s for the weekend—but when his chakra pinged back from a very awake Copy-Nin—an image of the lithe shinobi took hold of Iruka and wouldn’t let go. Usually he’d imagine one of his previous partners—but no matter how hard he tried, the Copy-Nin continued to spring unbidden to the forefront of his thoughts. With a grunt, he gave in. He was _tired_ , _damnit_ –-and it had been _too long_. Whatever got him off, at this point, he didn’t care.

            He slid his hand a little more forcefully along his slick and heated length as he imagined what the silver-haired shinobi might look under his mask . . . . under his clothes. He let out a groan and tightened his hold on his cock as he remembered a day, not too long ago, when he’d run into the man—towel-clad and dripping wet—coming from the upstairs bathroom. He stroked faster as the image of the Copy-Nin’s strong shoulders and defined abs flashed behind his closed eyelids. The man had still been wearing his mask, but as Iruka’s imagination conjured up what it might be like to yank down that mask and smash their mouths together heatedly—he let out another guttural sound and had to squeeze down to stop himself from coming so quickly. His imagination ran wild, whispered through his subconscious what it would feel like to press the pale shinobi into the upstairs hall wall and sneak his hand under the towel to coax his cock to life, as their tongues danced in their mouths. He slowed his pace, dragging his calloused fingertips up and down his thick shaft, flicking one out at the tip to rub the sensitive head and dip slightly into the small slit there. He bit his lip to stop from being so loud and set a vigorous pace jerking himself off. When he finally slumped, spent but satisfied, head thunking back against the tub, his eyes snapped open in alarm.

            He had just _come_ to the image of himself _making out with a dripping wet Copy-Nin_. He let his head fall dejectedly into his hand. He was screwed.

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            The first time it happened, Kakashi decided that enough was enough and he knew he had to get away.

            He had been living there for just about four months when he’d come home from a mission in pretty bad shape. He snuck through his window upstairs and was just about to fall on his bed in exhaustion when a worried-looking Iruka had bounded into his room, saying, “I was downstairs grading. I felt your chakra.”

            Iruka had then—without Kakashi’s permission—begun mother-hen-ning the Copy-Nin. He had caught the man before he fell and eased him onto the nearby chair. He then then swept the older man with a warm wave of green healing chakra and sighed, placing a warm hand on Kakashi’s thigh.

            “Don’t move, Hatake-san. I’m just going to go get a few things.”

            Kakashi was too chakra depleted to do anything but comply.

            The chuunin returned with warm water and a cloth, bandages and several medicines. He had proceeded to strip Kakashi down to his undergarments (and mask), wash away all of the blood, clean and bandage his cuts, apply salve to all of his worst bruises and coax him into a clean pair of sleep pants. He had brought Kakashi a clean mask and t-shirt, and then left some painkillers and a glass of water on the bedside table. When the chuunin helped him hobble over to the bed and tuck him into it, Kakashi felt a wave of unfamiliar warmth wash over him. That alone made him extremely uncomfortable, but when the chuunin had unconsciously kissed him on the forehead like he did when the silver-haired shinobi watched him tuck Naruto into bed—well, the Copy-Nin was wide awake and planning his escape within seconds.

            The spot on his forehead tingled and, while he was sure the chuunin hadn’t meant anything by it, it freaked him out enough that after touching the spot with his fingers, he vowed to make the Sandaime end his evaluation and let him go home first thing in the morning.

            If the thought of his empty apartment made Kakashi feel just a little bit cold, well, then—he just ignored that. These people were getting far too close for comfort and he had to put an end to it.

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**A.N. Yay—first bit of smut in this chapter. Sorry if it’s not up to par with my usual stuff. I find it harder to write masturbation scenes that actual sex.**


	13. Status Quo

**Chapter 13: Status Quo**

            When the silver-haired shinobi had up and left one day without warning, it had left the Umino household in quite the uproar—Iruka couldn’t understand what had went wrong, Naruto was disappointed that his new (though reluctant) friend had abandoned him and even Kaminari admitted she’d miss his dry wit and quiet presence.

            They had adjusted, though and half a village away, Kakashi himself had closed his own heart again. He avoided them at all costs in the village and had built his iron walls back up. He refused to admit he had become attached in any way to the small family, in particular a brunet chuunin.

            Sometimes, at night, he’d lie awake, his Icha Icha forgotten on his chest and wonder if perhaps, he was gay. For him—a shinobi at the tender age of five and a socially awkward genius to boot—relationships had just never happened. He was good-looking—objectively speaking even he could see it, but he had never been drawn to anyone romantically—either female or male. At nearly twenty-five, the genius knew it was a little late in the game to be questioning his sexuality—but then he’d never been a particularly sexually aware person.

He’d lost his virginity on a mission and really, in the seven-odd years since, had only used sex as a mission tool. He figured he was okay at it, having used the Sharingan to imitate techniques his targets seemed to enjoy—but he had always participated only with a detached clinical manner. Though most thought him a pervert for walking around reading porn, as a consummate soldier, he’d really only picked it up to acclimatise himself to the sex so he could perform during a mission without blushing—something his fair complexion demanded of him. He’d kept the books once he realised the shock value of them and how he could annoy his opponents by appearing so unengaged.

Kakashi would never admit it out loud, but given his mission-oriented view of sex and his general social awkwardness, well . . . . he’d always managed to keep his mask on and had never actually been kissed by another person other than his mother. And, on nights like these, his inner self liked to gleefully remind him, a certain brunet schoolteacher.

Kakashi was an intellectual and the only people he had ever been remotely (and it was definitely remotely—more of an intellectual attraction and nothing sexual) attracted to were people he found mentally stimulating. This didn’t happen very often . . . . though on nights like this, his inner self (he was really beginning to think his inner self was a useless shit disturber) liked to remind him that there _was_ that new Anbu—Crow—the one that had woken him up from his break and with whom he was often paired for Anbu missions now—that he found very interesting and since he was such a difficult person to figure out, very mentally stimulating. He was also, his inner self reminded Kakashi—very definitely male. Kakashi figured it was safe to be intellectually attracted to him though—as, being Anbu—he would most likely not ever know who the man was and would therefore not even have the option of a relationship, even if he wanted one (which he _didn’t_ he insisted—inner Kakashi had shaken his head at him for that).

            As for the schoolteacher, well—he wasn’t a particularly interesting individual and as a chuunin, not a very impressive shinobi either—but Kakashi would begrudgingly admit that he was, maybe, perhaps, just a tiny bit attracted to the man’s temper—really the _only_ interesting thing about him—everything else: the affection, wearing his emotions openly, always touching Kakashi and worse, that girl that had carried his children, being his Naruto’s precious person, making him eat all of his meals with him, treating him like one of his children when he was injured, not respecting Kakashi’s personal space, being loud and messy, leaving his grading everywhere and—really, the list went on an on. (Inner Kakashi sometimes liked to point out that most of these were good things or endearing things and that he only didn’t like Iruka touching Kaminari because he was jealous—Kakashi liked to choke inner-Kakashi to death for suggesting it; and then locking up those thoughts deep in his subconscious to forget.)

            When he visited the teacher’s home as Hound, he would interact only with Naruto and ignore everyone else (though if Kakashi ever zoned out, he noticed that inner-Kakashi would sometimes watch the small family longingly—and it _ached_ ).

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            Iruka would admit that it had been difficult getting used to the hole Kakashi had left in their family when he left, but Iruka kept himself busy with his kids and work.

Hound would still act normally enough around Crow on missions that Iruka had finally guessed that Pakkun had kept his identity secret and the brunet revelled in being able to spend time with the man he had begun to fall for in any capacity.

            Things were also going very well for his family—Kaminari had graduated and he had in fact, convinced Genma to take her on and even Naruto was making friends. The boy had admitted that while most of the students used to ignore or even worse—pick on him; the young Hyuuga heiress and the Nara heir had always been accepting and indifferent to him respectively. Shortly after returning to school the past September (roughly two and a half months after Iruka had adopted the boy, right in the middle of Hatake’s four month sojourn with them), word got around that the teacher was his legal guardian.

            The most welcome surprise was when Nara Shikaku had approached the young teacher. He had explained that he had always instructed his clan to be respectful to Naruto because they were intelligent enough to distinguish the boy from his prisoner and that he respected the Yondaime enough to want to protect his son. He had continued by saying that while he had never felt it safe for Shikamaru to spend time with the boy outside of the Academy because of the angry villagers, now that he was under the Sensei’s protection, he would like to actively encourage their friendship. Iruka, understanding the fatherly instinct to protect one’s own child over anything else—agreed and was very happy to find the boys got along rather well.

            Since Shikamaru was so easy-going and lazy, he was more than happy to let Naruto lead and Naruto was more than happy to have a friend. Shikamaru also thought that while the blond was ‘troublesome,’ he wasn’t nearly as scary as girls (especially Ino). They had become nearly inseparable in the last few months. Along with Shikamaru, Ino and Chouji had come along—the three families were very close and where one would go, the other two followed. Ino kept trying to get Naruto to dress up in drag (she claimed he could be prettier than her if he tried. He claimed he’d bomb her with his siblings diapers if she tried) and Chouji kept trying to overfeed him (because he claimed the blond was far too skinny to be healthy—really not the worst thing in the world—but still)—but they were true friends nonetheless and Iruka really couldn’t ask for more for his son. The rest of his classmates—though previously wary and unkind to Naruto because they emulated their parents—also had enough of a healthy respect and slight fear of Iruka-sensei to realize not to fuck with his kid.

            Basically, life in Konoha had returned to a fairly normal status quo in the couple of months following Kakashi’s departure from the Umino household.

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A.N. I promise more smut soon. Love, Niecey


	14. A Game of Clues

**Chapter 14: A Game of Clues**

            Iruka mused to himself as he watched the dancing flames. He liked that he was often assigned with Hound when on Anbu missions. Hound’s reputation was one of the best other than Iruka’s brother Itachi—who had worn a Weasel mask. Iruka laughed to himself that Pakkun hadn’t mentioned Itachi as one who was ‘more original’—after all, he didn’t summon weasels. Though, Iruka supposed—it was only as original as calling himself Dolphin or Kakashi calling himself Scarecrow would have been. Then he started thinking about Kakashi being a Scarecrow and his Anbu mask being a Crow and he couldn’t help it, but he giggled softly to himself because Sandaime kept pairing them up.

            From across the campfire, Kakashi looked up. “Is there something funny that I’m not aware of, Crow?”

            Iruka shook his head; glad his mask hid his mirth. “No, Hound, no there isn’t.” But because he hated missing the man, Iruka decided to push his luck and add, “It’s kind of like an insider’s joke. I’ll tell you what, though—if you ever figure out who I am, I’ll let you in on it.”

            “If I ever figure it out, I’ll hold you to that.” Kakashi stoked the fire. “I have to admit, though, that it doesn’t usually take me this long to figure it out. You’re a very interesting man, Crow—you have me stumped.”

            Iruka snorted. “I didn’t think you thought that highly of me—I was under the distinct impression you find me boring.” Iruka wondered how many clues he could give without being found out. Then he added, “And don’t you usually just cheat and ask the dogs?”

            Kakashi frowned behind his mask. “I have never said you were boring, Crow.”

            Iruka hummed non-committally. “Oh. Haven’t you?”

            Kakashi was confused. He didn’t like to be confused. It was like Crow knew something he didn’t. He didn’t like the growing feeling that he was missing something important. Something big. He excused himself for bed, telling Crow to wake him for his shift in a few hours.

            Crow nodded.

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            It was nearly midnight when Crow woke Kakashi for his watch. Kakashi slid out of the tent silently as a shadow and heard Crow settle in. He was tempted to peek in and see if the other man had removed his mask, but he resisted the urge. A good puzzle deserved to be solved properly. He settled in by the fire instead.

            Iruka tried to sleep, really, he did. But ever since that first time imagining making out with Kakashi, touching him, kissing him—well—Iruka _craved_. And really, with four and a half kids in the house (Nari-chan only counted as half because she was his sort of sister not his child and mostly grown-up)—he couldn’t exactly jack-off whenever he wanted. Since becoming a single parent, he found that he slept less and masturbated more on missions—where he knew Naruto or Kaminari wouldn’t walk in on him.

            Iruka also knew that Kakashi was just fifteen feet away, sitting by the campfire and that if he stayed this course—there was a _very real_ possibility that the other man would catch him.

            Only . . . . only, that was kind of _hot_ and only made him want it more. He sighed and unzipped his trousers. Jacking-off it is then. He sat back, almost laying down and scooted his hips forward a bit, letting his legs fall open wider. He trailed his hand down his own stomach, taut with anticipation and gently stroked himself. He ached a little from all the travel time spent running and the tight confines of his uniform pants. He rubbed his skin soothingly, pulling at his foreskin teasingly. The callouses on his fingers and palms from writing made the velvety skin of his dick throb with heat. His cock slowly started to come to life, thickening and growing longer. He imagined (on purpose this time) the Copy-Nin. He imagined him coming in to the tent from outside . . . . crawling up the bedroll, sliding his Hound mask up and off, then pulling his other down sensuously with a finger, eyes locked with Iruka’s own the whole time. He imagined him licking a stripe from the chin of Crow’s mask to where his lips would be, and then sliding the mask up and off. He imagined him licking his lips and then leaning forward to capture Iruka’s in a kiss. He imagined bucking up and the electric meeting of groins, imagined the silver-haired shinobi reaching down to still his hips, dragging his hand along heated skin until a pale hand took his dark cock in hand and stroked it. He stroked himself even as he imagined long, thin and pale fingers ghosting over his skin, as he imagined them heating up to match the fire dancing across his skin. He imagined a pair of pale lips finding that sweet spot on his neck, nipping and sucking, then dipping lower; he imagined thin pink lips curving in a smile to match the eye-smile he was so familiar with, imagined those same lips parting to take his cock into that hot, tight mouth and—he came. Iruka came hard to the image Kakashi sucking his cock. His head hit the pillow with a thunk and it was all he could do to clean himself up and pull a blanket over on haphazardly as he drifted off.

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            Kakashi hadn’t been on watch for longer than ten minutes when he heard it. It was muffled and faint—but it was coming from the tent. It sounded . . . . like Kakashi definitely shouldn’t go over there. But he did. As he stood just outside the tent and listened, he thought that he definitely shouldn’t peek in. But he did. And what he saw kind of, sort of, blew his mind.

            Crow was spread out on the floor, looking more debauched even than Kakashi’s Icha Icha books. His hair was messy and coming undone, his mask was still on—and he had one hand over the general vicinity of the mouth—obviously why the sounds were muffled. His shirt had ridden up and Kakashi could see well-defined tan abs and a trail of dark hair leading down to a thick, engorged cock, dripping pre-cum and bobbing as the other Anbu stroked himself.

            The silver-haired shinobi watched as the man’s strokes became faster and more erratic, he watched as Crow fisted the blanket in one hand as he bucked up and came into the other. He listened as the other man tried to muffle his groans of pleasure and as Kakashi watched, he felt an answering twitch in his own pants.

            So, that settled that, then. He was gay. _Definitely_ gay. Or at least bi. And if the first thing to flash into his mind when he thought that was the smiling face of a ponytailed chuunin, well—Kakashi was just going to ignore it. He was going to ignore it very much. He was going to ignore it so hard that he’d forget it. He slunk off before Crow noticed him.


	15. I Wish, I Wish, With All My Heart

**Chapter 15: I Wish, I Wish, With All My Heart**

            Kakashi wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking, if he was imagining it or if he was going crazy, but he was starting to think that Crow might just be Iruka. He liked to think he was imagining it, because frankly—him wanting the two people that he was the most attracted and drawn to to be the _same_ person was frightening and pointed to a level of attachment that Kakashi would rather pretend he wasn’t capable of and didn’t exist.

            Kakashi had been walking through the forest just outside the village the other day when he had _just happened_ to run in to the chuunin (it had _absolutely nothing_ to do with the fact that this was near the grove of trees where Iruka would visit a murder of crows and stare forlornly and wistfully at them, as if they’d kicked his puppy). He had Pakkun with him, ( _not_ so that he could pretend to be doing a routine perimeter check if he _did_ happen to run into Iruka. He was just being cautious. Yeah. He _was_ technically outside of the village, so it was safer to have Pakkun with him) and when the brunet had seen them, he’d stood up and sauntered over, falling into step beside the Copy-Nin.

            “Good afternoon, Kakashi-san. Good afternoon to you too.” Here, he had looked down at Pakkun and nodded. Pakkun had nodded in response.

            “This is one of my ninken.” Kakashi eye-smiled at his chuunin.

            “Oh.” The brunet had smiled, then, “Oh! It’s nice to se—“

            “Meet you. It’s nice to meet you,” the pug had finished with a funny look.

            The chuunin had frowned slightly, but answered, “Yes. To . . . . meet you. It’s nice to _meet_ you, _Pakkun_.” The dog looked at him funny again.

            If Kakashi realised that Iruka already knew Pakkun’s name and that meant that he had already met him and that pointed to one of Kakashi’s deepest but best quelled wishes being true—well, the silver-haired shinobi was going to stubbornly ignore that too.

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            Iruka knew he was bordering on obvious, but the more hints he gave and the more Kakashi seemed to ignore it, the more determined he became. He couldn’t imagine why the other man was being so obtuse about it. Iruka had figured out the man was gay after the first couple of times he’d felt him watching him when he jerked himself off. Which meant he was interested—which meant that if he had figured out Crow was Iruka—then the only explanation was that he didn’t want Iruka. That made the ponytailed man sad, so he’d decided to give it one last shot and then move on if it didn’t pan out. There was no use in pining over someone who preferred to ignore you.

When leaving for this latest Anbu mission, he had purposefully left his hair down. When Hound had asked about it, he had blatantly stated that he hadn’t had time for the intricate braid because his kids had needed his attention. He had then proceeded to pull it into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck and say loud enough for the other to hear that he hoped it wasn’t too similar to his regular style of a high-ponytail, because then someone might figure out who he was. _Figure out who I am already, damnit Kakashi!_

            Iruka also made sure to travel within touching distance of his superior officer at all times. He would _innocently_ brush against him, _accidentally_ bump into him. When they stopped for air or water or to rest, he’d sit so that their thighs were touching. He only wished they weren’t wearing masks so that he could smile flirtatiously at the other man. Wink at him and make him blush. As it was, he was fairly certain he’d managed to fluster the other nin almost to the point of distraction—he didn’t want them to lose focus, that was dangerous on a mission—so he made sure not to do anything too over-the-top once he reached that point.

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            The mission had gone well, stolen scrolls tucked safely in their rucksacks and were on their way home when Iruka found the opening he’d been hoping for. He asked for the first sleeping shift, then made sure he was awake—and pleasuring himself—when Kakashi came to switch with him. As predicted, the silver-haired nin had watched—then apparently didn’t know what to do—he had to ‘wake’ Crow for his turn at watch, but the genius didn’t know how to walk into the tent casually when his mission partner was laid out after jerking-off. He stood awkwardly right outside the door, until a Crow clone sidled up behind him quietly.

            “Did you like the show?”

            Kakashi gulped. Crow knew he’d taken to watching him. _Damnit._ Kakashi couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He felt Crow press against him from behind, place his hands hotly on the outside of the Copy-Nin’s thighs, drag them up slowly to rest on thin hips, pull him back to be flush with the clone. For the first time in his life, Kakashi was left breathless with _want_ , with _need_. He felt arousal coil in his gut. _Oh God, Crow was going to be the death of him._

            “Do you want to go in?”

            Kakashi gulped. Crow slid a hand around a slim hip, snuck it under the waistband of uniform pants, and ghosted it over Kakashi’s flaccid member. He leaned forward, lifted his mask just enough to lick the outside of Kakashi’s ear.

            “You can go in if you want.”

            Kakashi felt himself twitch in his pants, start to harden under Crow’s touch. He briefly remembered that he wished Crow was his chuunin—inner Kakashi cackled at that and Kakashi reeled; when had he started thinking of Iruka as his? He didn’t even think the man was gay . . . . he had fathered children, for shit’s sake!—and that if he _wasn’t,_ then he really _shouldn’t_ be doing this, but Crow didn’t give him a chance to dwell on it. The clone pushed him forward, whispering huskily, “I’ll take care of the watch,” even as a tan hand appeared out of the tent and pulled him in.           

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            Iruka crawled forward and pushed the tent’s curtain aside. He pulled Kakashi in by the hand and stood in front of him.

            “Do you trust me?”

            Kakashi hesitated. Then he remembered Crow bringing him back from his break, remembered how he had left Kakashi’s mask on for him. He nodded.

            “Good. Then trust me.” Crow gently pushed Hound down onto the bedroll, and straddled his hips.

            Kakashi gulped again. He had never thought sex could feel like this—and so far all he’d done was watch the other man jerk himself off. Crow slid his hands under Kakashi’s shirt, pushing it up and rubbing calloused thumbs gently over pebble-hard nipples. Kakashi was distantly aware that that was a point in his favour, since Iruka would have callouses from writing so much as a teacher, then he lost coherent thought as Crow’s hand slid lower, unfastening his pants and pulling his half-hard cock free. Kakashi felt the cool air hit his sensitive skin, then a hot, insistent hand coaxing him into full arousal with slow, and sure strokes.

            Iruka shimmied further down Kakashi so that he could be face –level with his now fully engorged and dripping cock. The brunet liked what he saw. Kakashi was not quite as thick as he himself was, not too big and not too small, but he was slightly longer and curved up slightly. Iruka liked how gorgeously the pale flesh contrasted with the tan skin of his own hand. He pushed his mask up just enough to free his mouth—no need to piss Hound off because he wanted to figure out Crow’s identity on his own—Iruka just wished he’d hurry the hell up with that already—and dipped his head to lick the pre-cum off of Kakashi’s mushroom shaped head. Iruka figured it was better this way anyways—Kakashi had always been disinterested in him as a lowly chuunin and was definitely not quiet about his disdain for Iruka’s emotional nature—at least as Crow he could have this one time with Kakashi before the man figured out who he was. And if this was all he was going to get, well, then Iruka wanted to make it good.

            Kakashi couldn’t hold in the gasp when he felt a soft tongue lap at his cockhead and when Crow bent even further and Kakashi felt himself engulfed by the heat of the other Anbu’s mouth—he nearly choked. No one had ever done this to him before. On missions, he had always been the one in control and no one—not the simpering informants, the other undercover nins or even the rough targets, would dare, and well—that was really the only time Kakashi engaged in any form of sex. The thought flashed through his brain again that Crow just might be the death of him. Then he threw his head back against the bedroll and lost all track of time and anything else that wasn’t a hot mouth bobbing on his cock.

            Iruka took the Copy-Nin in as far as he could go, trying to keep his gag reflex under control and swallowing around the heated flesh. Kakashi was making the most delicious sounds Iruka had ever heard—he was far more responsive than any of Iruka’s previous lovers. The brunet was glad they were in the middle of nowhere—where no one but himself could hear Kakashi’s passionate cries. He pulled back and bobbed forward shallowly, using his hand where his mouth wasn’t reaching and stroked harder, faster as the Copy-Nin came undone beneath him.

            Kakashi wasn’t sure how much more he could take of this sweet torture when Crow took him in deep again and hummed around his cock, sending the vibrations deep into Kakashi’s gut and prompting the Copy-Nin’s (very loud and hard) release into Crow’s mouth. Kakashi was vaguely aware that it was one of the most satisfying feelings in the world.

            As Kakashi felt the other Anbu tucking him back into his pants and pulling the covers up over him, he almost cried at the thought that his favourite Anbu partner might not be his chuunin—he desperately wished his suspicions were correct though—especially now, but then everything got hazy as he began to drift into a fitful sleep. He though that maybe, just maybe, he heard Crow lean in and whisper, mask still uncovering just his mouth, “I’d kiss you properly, but the masks are in the way, ne?” and then felt him lean up to press what was presumably a chaste kiss onto the forehead of Hound’s mask. And if the familiarity of that action brought a happily, relieved little smile to the Copy-Nin’s lips—well, then. Maybe he wouldn’t ignore that.

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            When Kakashi woke the next morning, he couldn’t be sure if he had dreamed it or not. He wasn’t sure which he hoped it was. But he also knew that his walls—so painstakingly built over decades—where beginning to crumble under the chuunin schoolteacher’s influence.

            They made their way back to Konoha, this time with Kakashi thoroughly distracted—because he couldn’t get a certain brunet off his mind and he couldn’t help keeping glancing over to his partner and _hoping, wishing, wanting_. And still, the pragmatic, cold part of Kakashi kept telling him this was _bad_ —it was very bad that he was _hoping_ and _wishing, wanting_ and maybe even _falling_. And he had to keep his walls up. He had to protect himself. He couldn’t let anyone in. It was bad enough he loved his sensei’s son. This was too much. He had to stop it.


	16. Old Habits

**Chapter 16: Old Habits**

            As Iruka kissed Naruto on the head and wished him a good day with Team 7, he thought back to that mission so many months ago, when he’d shared a night with his Anbu team leader, Hound. He remembered how Hound had immediately started being colder and how Iruka had decided to stop pining over the man and had begun to move on—refusing any further missions with the infuriating Copy-Nin. Sarutobi hadn’t been surprised, really, Iruka was headstrong and not afraid to refuse orders he didn’t agree with, so the old man had indulged him. Hound was now as absent from the Uminos’ lives as Kakashi had become when he had left the house last year.

            Still, when his class had become Genin (Iruka’s mouth puckered bitterly when he remembered Mizuki failing his boy and then trying to trick him into stealing some of Konoha’s most closely guarded scrolls. The scar on Iruka’s back still stung sometimes and it had been especially difficult to see Kakashi again, with Pakkun—Iruka had acted as detached as he could. The Copy-Nin had likewise done the same)—the only person Iruka thought he could trust with his Naruto was Kakashi. He had also put Sasuke on the silver-haired shinobi’s team—hoping that as the only Sharingan user left in the village, he could help his brother’s brother to develop to his full potential. He owed it to Itachi to do the best he possibly could by the boy that the youngest of his trio had protected at the detriment of all of his own dreams—Iruka, unlike most, had been well aware that his brother Itachi secretly longed to lead Konoha as a peaceful Hokage. He had wanted to put Shika on the team too, if only for Naruto’s sake—but the councils had put their foot down—especially the shinobi council the did not want the Ino-Shika-Cho legacy to be broken and Iruka had conceded, figuring it was a victory that he had weaseled his son and Itachi’s brother onto the Copy-Nin’s team. Though, from Naruto’s tales of the pink-haired kunoichi they’d ended up with instead, he was starting to get seriously ticked at the councils (again).

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            Later in the day, after work at the Academy (Kaminari—having been nominated for chuunin by Genma during the last round of tests had begun as an assistant teacher there and if the students had all gone home and cried the day they found out there was a new, mini-Umino-sensei in the building—one that shared Iruka-sensei’s temper and was being personally mentored by the man—well, they would just tell anyone who asked that they were pre-genin, damnit and shinobi did not cry), he was manning the Missions Desk (he had stopped sending his clone since the triplets had recently turned two—they had been sleeping through the night for just over half a year already and he didn’t need the sleep as much anymore) with a bored-looking Genma.

            When the friends were packing up to leave after their shift, Genma had turned to the younger nin and smiled, speaking softly, “I almost forgot!” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Congratulations, by the way, Iruka-kun. I hear you may have another new chuunin in your household soon. Wish your boy good luck from his uncle Genma, ne?”

            Iruka’s eyes snapped up to Genma’s face. “What?”

            Genma frowned. “You didn’t know?”

            Iruka narrowed his eyes. “Know what?”

            “Kakashi-san nominated his team for the upcoming chuunin exams. I thought you would have heard already.”

            Genma gulped. His friend’s face was darkening ominously. “That idiotic jounin did _what_?” Genma prayed for Kakashi’s safety as the brunet disappeared in a huff of leaves. The senbon-toting jounin may or may not have made out a quiet but deadly, “I am going to _kill_ that silver-haired bastard.” just as his friend shunshinned to the Tower’s topmost floor.

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            Kakashi had been doing what he knew how to do best ever since his night with Crow. Avoid, avoid, avoid. The silver-haired shinobi figured that if he avoided Iruka and Crow that he could pretend nothing was happening and keep his walls up. Granted, that had been slightly more difficult since he had Umino’s son on his genin team—and blossoming feelings (that he was _successfully squashing, damnit_ —no matter what inner-Kakashi claimed) or not, he’d been infinitely grateful to his chuunin for giving him their boy—he thought he was managing fairly well.

            He was not willing to admit that after that night, he had begun, for the first time in his life, masturbating—and to the image of his chuunin schoolteacher nonetheless; he especially liked imagining Crow taking off his mask and being Iruka and then sucking Kakashi off just like he had in the tent—and he especially was not going to admit that part of the reason he practiced his avoidance strategy so thoroughly was that as the year had dragged on, masturbating just wasn’t enough anymore—he wanted his chuunin and he wanted him _badly_ and anytime he saw him in the village, particularly during one of his absolutely delicious bouts of temper, he just wanted to fuck him right then and there (and if he shook inner-Kakashi by the throat for implying that that scared the Copy-Nin because he’d never felt desire before—well, then inner-Kakashi should just keep his damn mouth shut) and let Kakashi pretend he was still in absolute control of his body and desires and emotions like a consummate shinobi was supposed to be.

            Kakashi also knew that his team may or may not be ready for the exams, but he wanted to test their skills anyways, particularly his blond’s. He had a feeling that the ball of sunshine just might surprise everyone. He had just made his way up the stairs to the Hokage’s office to officially nominate his team (he’d told Gai and Genma he’d be doing as much earlier that morning, but protocols were protocols) for the exams, when the object of his most secret desires popped into existence right in front of Sandaime’s desk. Kakashi smiled under his mask as he briefly recalled nearly two years ago when _he_ had materialised _on_ Hiruzen’s desk and seen the Hokage’s door hanging askew by one hinge because in a fit of protective fury over their boy, the chuunin had kicked it in. He wondered what had brought on this bout of his chuunin’s rage. His smile disappeared as burning brown eyes scanned each jounin-sensei in the room and then landed on him.

            “ _You_.” It sounded like pure venom dripping from his Iruka’s lips. Kakashi gulped. He back-pedalled a bit under the furious stare.

            “I. _Trusted_ you.” accusation was heavy in the brunet’s tone and despite being slightly nervous, Kakashi found he was also heating up. He had always been attracted to Iruka’s temper. He pulled at his shirt collar, which all of a sudden felt too tight.

            “What the hell makes you think they’re ready? What the hell makes you think you have the right to put _my_ son’s life in danger by pushing him into a trial that he is clearly not ready for?!” _Hmmm_ , at east Kakashi’s suspicion that it had, in fact, been Iruka to give him Naruto was confirmed. Now, he just had to stop him. He had to stop the chuunin before he couldn’t control himself any longer and he broke and he grabbed the brunet to fuck him senseless in the middle of a Hokage’s office full of their colleagues.

            As the brunet advanced on him, Kakashi began to _panic._ It wasn’t just about the sex, it wasn’t just about the feelings, it was about everything and it was still just _too much_ and old habits die hard, so he _had_ to stop the chuunin’s advance _at all costs_ or he was going to destroy what little left there was of Kakashi’s walls and Kakashi was _so scared_ that he didn’t even think about what he was doing anymore. He just cast about for what would push the chuunin as far away from his crumbling walls and his crumbling resolve as hard as he could and he ended up blurting, “What would a _weak little chuunin like you_ know about _my soldiers_? You weren’t even there when _your son_ was _fighting for his life_ on Tazuna’s bridge. All you’re good for is kissing fucking babies.”

            And, oh, God—Kakashi knew that was what would hurt the most and, oh, God—he wished he could take it back before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, but it was too late and his chuunin was looking at him with hurt in his eyes and then fury and then—

            “I _fucking **hate** you_. You _bastard._ ” And Iruka pushed by him and left the room and Kakashi couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe and inner-Kakashi wasn’t even yelling at him anymore because inner-Kakashi was curled up crying in the corner of his mind and, oh, God—Kakashi had possibly just made the biggest mistake of his life.


	17. A Slower Burn

**Chapter 17:** **A Slower Burn**

**A.N. Sorry that the massiveness of this chapter is half flashbacks.**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

            After the chuunin exams debacle, Iruka had to admit that maybe the silver-haired bastard had been partly right—about their blond, at least—Sakura had coasted on her teammate’s skills and Iruka couldn’t even bring himself to think about his brother’s brother and the choices Sasuke had made—but he supposed that when the man returned from his next mission (rounding up Jiraiya) it might be an okay idea to apologise to the Copy-Nin. After all, while Iruka had no problems being insubordinate, he believed Kakashi might think it a slight against his spotless record that a chuunin would outright challenge his authority.

            Both of his families, especially his adopted one of the Hokage’s, were still reeling from the loss of Hiruzen. Konohamaru had taken to sneaking in and sleeping in Naruto’s (the ‘Boss’s’) room with him. Iruka didn’t mind that his semi-adopted-grandfather’s grandson was there all the time, and he hoped they could begin to heal soon.

Kakashi had been tapped for retrieving Jiraiya, who would hopefully replace the old man, and Iruka was glad that Crow hadn’t been asked to accompany the Hound. He didn’t think he could handle that right now and didn’t trust his reaction to Jiraiya either—going over his file to determine his most probable location for the council (pissed or not at them, he recognised the importance of locating a new Hokage as quickly as possible and having been two of Hiruzen’s favourite missions desk jockeys, he and Genma were the only shinobi with enough clerical clearance to access Jiraiya’s file)—the ponytailed schoolteacher had learned that the old pervert was Naruto’s _Godfather_ and _should_ have taken responsibility for him—a responsibility that had instead been shouldered by a fourteen-year-old kid that had had to work around a broken system and manage to protect the boy in an awful orphanage against the council’s wishes and then by Iruka himself (and although he wouldn’t trade his boy for anything, that man had still _abandoned_ his son when the boy had been at his most helpless. Sannin or not, that was _unforgivable_ ).

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            Kakashi had seen neither hide nor hair of his chuunin since the exams and the only reason he hadn’t had a complete meltdown was because he was keeping busy. The village needed him right now because it was in crisis and though he felt like he had died a little on the inside, he was managing (just barely) to keep it together. Jiraiya had been in Konoha for a little while already and had point-blank refused the Hokage’s job. He had offered Kakashi—as the boy’s jounin-sensei and current teacher—to take the boy under his own wing (Kakashi didn’t suppose the white-haired Sannin knew yet about the boy’s adoptive father and how much more trouble he’d encounter trying to convince _him_ to let their boy go on a training trip—and if the thought of his chuunin made him just a little bit wistful, well—as evidenced by his history—Kakashi could be good at ignoring that). Jiraiya also planned to find his old friend and teammate, Tsunade, to take the job.

            It had been a surprise for Kakashi to learn that Iruka had approved his trip—though from what he’d heard from Genma, the man was secretly hurting—he’d only agreed because he had trouble denying his boy what he wanted and the threat to the blond’s safety scared him more than he’d like to admit. All of Naruto’s precious people were to gather the next morning at the gate to see him off.

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            Kakashi watched, from hidden in a tree, as Naruto’s friends wished him well. Teuchi and his daughter had packed the boy a bento and had been the first to leave, going to open their shop for the day once their good-byes were said. Konohamaru, still red-eyed from crying over his grandfather Hiruzen’s death, had been the next to leave, running off in almost-tears after hugging his ‘Boss’ and telling him to get strong. Sakura had made a very brief appearance and wished her former teammate well.

            Team 10’s goodbye was a little more drawn out. Ino insisted on Naruto taking a scroll of clothes she’d packed for him and though she referred to him as Naruto-baka, she hugged him like a big sister and told him he’d better come home safe or she’d hit him herself. Naruto had smiled, scratched the back of his head and promised the other blonde he’d remember to brush his hair and teeth everyday and cut his nails at least once a week. She had nodded and waited for Chouji to leave together. Chouji had handed Naruto at least a dozen scrolls, sealed with what he told Naruto were snacks way better than shinobi rations bars and the two had shared a warm hug before Chouji left with Ino. Shikamaru had then awkwardly stood with the blond and they had conversed in whispers before the blond had launched himself at the other boy and Kakashi mused that maybe, just maybe, their hug was a little longer and a little tighter than was normal for two friends and when the brunet had opted to stay and watch Naruto leave instead of following Ino and Chouji away; taking a spot beside Kaminari and the triplets, he wondered if the boys were closer than they let on. Shikamaru was definitely smart enough to hide it and his Naruto was used to wearing a mask to hide things from the villagers. Kakashi’s musings were interrupted, however, when Jiraiya spotted him.

            The white-haired shinobi beckoned him over and Kakashi scratched the back of his head self-consciously with an eye-smile as he said his good-byes. The part of him that was Hound wanted more than anything to pull the blond into his arms and just breathe in his scent one last time—but Naruto didn’t know yet that the two were the same man, so he contented himself with creating a clone henged in his Anbu uniform to do it for him. He then sent the clone away and backed off to give the Umino family time to say their good-byes.

            The triplets obviously didn’t understand why Ruto-nii-san was leaving (and that they wouldn’t see him for a long time), but when Iruka told them to say good-bye, each obediently hugged and kissed their brother good-bye and Kakashi smiled a little as his blond teared up and kissed each on the top of the head like his Touchan did with all of them all the time. Then Kaminari said good-bye and Naruto laughingly told ‘Nari-Oba’ that he’d be taller than her the next time they met in person. She had ruffled his hair affectionately and made him promise to write, before patting Iruka on the hand and leading the kids off to the side to give the father and son time to properly say goodbye.

            Kakashi perked up as Iruka came forward to say his goodbyes and looked on in unabashed interest as the brunet first turned to the white-haired old pervert.

            “You know I’m not too happy about this arrangement, Jiraiya- _san_ ,” Kakashi smiled inwardly. Only his chuunin could make an honorific sound like an insult, “but if it’s for my son’s safety and learning, well, I can handle that. I expect him to write every week and if you are a bad influence on him in any way— _any way_ , Jiraiya- _san_ , you can rest assured that I _will_ have words with you.” The brunet had then turned slightly away and added, “And since I found out you’re his Godfather, I suppose you have a right to him. But—“ and here he turned back quick as a whip and punched the old toad on the jaw, hard enough for him to stumble backwards—“make no mistake that if you abandon my son for a _second time_ , I’ll be doing a lot more than just punching you. By the way, that was for abandoning him _the first time_. You’re lucky I don’t break your nose. Or your dick. I’ve heard you’re rather attached to it.” The Sannin had paled and got up from the ground, keeping his hands protectively in front of his groin. And Kakashi wished he hadn’t pushed his chuunin away and his own pants tightened a little. Because if it turned him on that Iruka would stand up to him (who was slightly stronger than him) and even Sarutobi (who was definitely stronger)—well then his desire was tenfold as strong when he watched him not only stand up to, but _scold_ _a Sannin_ who was beyond all three of their abilities, maybe even two of them put together. And if he felt his chest tighten a little, well he was just going to continue trying to ignore that.

            Then Iruka folded their boy into his arms and kissed the top of his head and held onto him so tight that Kakashi could almost see the love pouring out and over the blond, and he whispered into the top of his son’s blond locks and then held him at arm’s length, patting his hair down, tightening the straps on Naruto’s rucksack and double-checking that his coat was zipped up. He then backed up and Shikamaru slid his hand into the older brunet’s as they watched Naruto walk away and Kakashi revelled in the brilliant smile his chuunin kept on his face so that Naruto wouldn’t see him cry.

            Then Naruto was gone out of sight and the brunet hugged Shikamaru and sent him off and turned from the gate with a nod as a crow took off from the post to follow the path Naruto and Jiraiya had taken—and as the brunet turned and caught sight of Kakashi, his smile disappeared and it hit Kakashi that that crow was Iruka’s and he was sending it after their boy.

            **_He had been right all along._** Crow was Iruka and his Iruka was Crow and he couldn’t ignore it anymore no matter how hard he tried and he realised that he didn’t want to anymore— _he loved him_ —he loved his Iruka, but it was too late because his chuunin’s smile disappeared when he turned to him because he hated Kakashi and it was Kakashi’s own fault that he hated him and it hit him like a sucker-punch to the gut and he didn’t want the man to see him break again, so he did the only thing he knew how, the only thing he could think of: Kakashi ran away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            As Iruka nodded to Burakku to send him after Naruto and turned, steeling himself with grim determination, to apologise to the Copy-Nin (this was going to be uncomfortable), he first paused to squeeze his son’s best friend’s hand and send him off—then watched in puzzlement as the Copy-Nin looked like a deer caught in the headlights and then watched him vanish into a puff of smoke. Did he want to get away from Iruka that badly? Well okay. Fine then. Iruka just wouldn’t apologise and the Copy-Nin could continue ignoring him happily like he had been all year anyways. Iruka was _so_ done with waiting for that man.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

            As Kakashi shunshinned to his quiet, lonely and _cold_ apartment, all of the clues played over in his head like an awful film—deep down, he’d _known_. He’d _always_ known. But he had been so afraid. His fear had pushed him to push Iruka away. He had lost the man he loved before he even had the chance to love him. (A.N.- Flashbacks are between the tildes. Hope it’s not too confusing.)

~         ~         ~         ~         ~         ~         ~         ~         ~         ~

Gai speaking two years ago:

_“This morning, a chuunin school teacher—the one who is supposed to receive the boy in September, actually, went on a rampage through the village. Tore into the Hokage Tower, with your sensei’s boy in his arms. He didn’t even ask for an audience—nor demand one for that matter—he simply went in and informed the Hokage that he was keeping the boy. Didn’t ask. Just told the Hokage. And I’ve heard that it worked . . . . The paperwork went through that same afternoon.”_

**Iruka had started as an Anbu then. He had probably met their boy for the first time while on Jinchuuriki duty.**

 

Crow, speaking to a broken Kakashi like only Iruka would:

_“Your only option is whether you want to eat with or without your mask.”_

            _“I’m not taking it off.”_

            _“Fine. Don’t worry, it’s a clean one. You can sip through it, I had Pakkun change it.”_

            _“You didn’t look at my face?”_

            _A shake of his head._ _“Now eat, Hatake-san.”_

His thinly veiled implication that Kakashi had chosen his Anbu mask because of his summons—and Iruka choosing Crow and summoning crows:

_“Not many people have silver hair, Hatake-san. And Sharingan-No-Kakashi summons dogs . . . . Not very original to call yourself ‘Hound,’ ne?”_

 

Iruka, as Crow—obviously referring Kakashi’s former attitude towards the chuunin schoolteacher:

_“I didn’t think you thought that highly of me—I was under the distinct impression you find me boring. And don’t you usually just cheat and ask the dogs?”_

_“I have never said you were boring, Crow.”_

_“Oh. Haven’t you?”_

_.           .           .           .           .           .           .           ._

            _“You may think he’s only a chuunin and that he’s boring, but Umino Iruka is a shinobi, Hatake-san. He knows how important a shinobi’s precious people are to them. You are going to go to that house and you are going to ask him to visit your boy and you are not going to argue with me. If I hear otherwise, I will be back here to deal with you. Do you understand?”_

And all of his own actions supporting just that (he felt a little sick at that):

            _Their first dinner together. Kakashi had sat there, arms crossed and snorted derisively at half of what Iruka had to say._

_Every time he had spoken down to the chuunin. Every time he had thought he was boring. It was even possible that Pakkun had_ **told** _the schoolteacher just that at some point, probable even. The dog never had been particularly tactful._

 

How Hiruzen had just happened to assign him to Iruka:

_“In light of this, I am assigning Umino Iruka as your handler until I feel that you have completely healed. It will be assigned to him as a mission and I expect you to report to his home by nightfall. I will take care of informing him of this mission. It will last until I feel that you are well. You will be staying there whenever you are in the village.”_

**Iruka, who was Crow and _knew_ why he’d broken and then made it so that the Hokage would send the Copy-Nin to him and their boy.**

 

Iruka, never actually answering his question:

_“And I hope you have no aversions to sharing a space with an Anbu.”_

_“Are you an Anbu, Umino-san?”_

_“I asked Naruto if he’d like to save a room for Hound.”_

 

And telling Kakashi exactly how he felt as if he knew he was speaking to Hound:

_“I owe Hound a great debt. I admire him greatly. If he hadn’t left so abruptly this evening, I’d like to have told him—no, promise him to take care of his boy. Our boy. To tell him I’d like to be friends. I hope he returns.”_

**Which he had been and had known.**

Kakashi remembered thinking the schoolteacher couldn’t trust him:

_He mustn’t know, otherwise he wouldn’t accept a washed-out drunk into his home with his children._

.           .           .           .           .           .           .           .

            _Falling asleep and wondering at the lack of warnings about Iruka’s children. He had expected to hear more than just ‘keep your dirty porn books in your room.’_

_It couldn’t be because he trusted the silver-haired shinobi . . . . It almost felt like Umino knew something he didn’t. He didn’t like the feeling._

 

Iruka, taking care of him when he was Iruka, just as he’d done when he was Crow:

_“I was downstairs grading. I felt your chakra.”_

_He had caught him before he fell and eased him onto the nearby chair, then swept him with a warm wave of green healing chakra and sighed, placing a warm hand on my thigh._

_“Don’t move, Hatake-san. I’m just going to go get a few things.”_

_He’d returned and stripped Kakashi down to his undergarments (and mask), washed away the blood, cleaned and bandaged the cuts, applied salve to the bruises and helped him into a pair of sleep pants. He had brought Kakashi a clean mask and t-shirt, and left some painkillers and a glass of water on the bedside table. He had helped him hobble over to the bed and tucked him into it, Kakashi feeling a wave of unfamiliar warmth wash over him._

_He had kissed him on the forehead._

**Kakashi now knew why that had felt so warm, so familiar.**

.           .           .           .           .           .           .           .          

            _Kakashi had been confused. He didn’t like to be confused. Crow had known something he didn’t. He had been missing something important. Something big._

 

Iruka knowing Pakkun because he was Crow. And basically telling Kakashi as if he wanted him to know, as if he’d wanted to be found out:

_“Good afternoon, Kakashi-san. Good afternoon to you too.”_

_“This is one of my ninken.”_

_“Oh. Oh! It’s nice to se—“_

_“Meet you. It’s nice to meet you.”_

_“Yes. To . . . . meet you. It’s nice to meet you, Pakkun.”_

**If only Kakashi hadn’t been so afraid, he could have had a chance with his chuunin. It was obvious now that the chuunin had been trying to give him every chance.**

 

Their first (almost) time together, the first time Kakashi had enjoyed sex—his awakening, if you will:

_Crow’s hair had been down. Kakashi had stomped on the urge to run his fingers through it. Had instead simply asked about it._

_Crow had said he hadn’t had time for the braid because his kids had needed his attention._ **Iruka’s kids.**

_Kakashi had felt a bit of disappointment when Crow had proceeded to pull it into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck and say that he hoped it wasn’t too similar to his regular style of a high-ponytail, because then someone might figure out who he was._

**.           .           .           .           .           .           .           .**

Iruka had tucked him back into his pants and pulled the covers up. He had leaned in and whispered, “I’d kiss you properly, but the masks are in the way, ne?” and then had pressed a kiss to Kakashi’s mask-covered forehead.

**Kakashi couldn’t believe why he hadn’t admitted to Iruka that he’d known then. Now, he had lost his chance and could only imagine what their first time together might have been like without the masks . . . . What more could have happened between them if Iruka had known Kakashi wanted him too—wanted him just as badly, if not _more_. The disappointment tasted bitter on his tongue. When Iruka had kissed him on his masked forehead for the second time, he should have stopped him—should have taken him by the hand, pulled his own mask down and given his first kiss to Iruka.**

 

And the nail in the coffin—the day he’d sealed his own lonely fate. The day he’d put their boy in danger—and looking back on it, Iruka had been right—they weren’t ready and he’d failed his students:

            _“You.” It had sounded like pure venom. “I. Trusted you. What the hell makes you think they’re ready? What the hell makes you think you have the right to put my son’s life in danger by pushing him into a trial that he is clearly not ready for?!”_

_“What would a weak little chuunin like you know about my soldiers? You weren’t even there when your son was fighting for his life on Tazuna’s bridge. All you’re good for is kissing fucking babies.”_

_And, Kakashi had known that was what would hurt the most—telling his chuunin that he’d failed his child—telling him he was nothing, and—_

_“I fucking **hate** you. You bastard.” _

_And inner-Kakashi had crawled into the corner of his mind piteously to die._

~                     ~                     ~                     ~                     ~

            It wasn’t like the first time he broke. Kakashi had been younger then. He was wiser now. He knew more now. Unfortunately for him, that also meant he knew that there was going to be no Iruka to come and wake him up this time. Instead of spiralling down and drinking until he passed out, Kakashi controlled himself. He only drank until he got a nice, numbing buzz going. And if that became his new normal, well—Kakashi didn’t think anyone could blame him. At least it was a slow burn this time, he thought—and not the blazing inferno like his first break.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

A.N. For those of you who want clarification—the Konoha Crush (Orochimaru’s attack) comes before Jiraiya in my timeline. Sorry if it bothers people that I messed with the plot even more here—no Ebisu and Jiraiya did not show up on his own as well—but just to give you a heads up, my story will now diverge from canon almost entirely now. Except for the main parts of the Itachi versus Sasuke arc; and the Sasuke-putting-a-hole-in-Naruto’s-chest thing.

            Also, yay! The next chapter is the point that I have been working up to in my story—the point where Iruka has to suck it up and ask for Kakashi’s help!


	18. Suck It Up, Buttercup!

**Chapter 18: Suck It Up, Buttercup**

            It had been a couple of months since Naruto had left. Iruka had known his son and his son’s best friend were very close, had even suspected that one day they may become more—and the fact that the usually very lazy Shikamaru had taken to breaking through the wards every night to sneak into the blond’s empty room was more than enough proof. He had welcomed the boy, making sure his parents knew where their child was sneaking off to and feeding him every morning. After about two months, the brunet had slunk downstairs for breakfast and complained to his former sensei.

            “It doesn’t smell like him anymore.”

            Iruka had looked over to the sleepy pre-teen at his table from his spot at the stove. “What doesn’t Shika-kun?”

            The lazy young chuunin had slumped forward onto the table. “His room. It doesn’t smell like him anymore. It just smells like me now.”

            Iruka had held in a fond chuckle and took a seat beside the boy, placing a reassuring hand on his back. “You know, Shika-kun, it’s okay to miss him, but he will be back. And you should keep yourself busy while he’s gone.”

            The twelve-year-old had snorted. “I don’t _do_ busy, Iruka-sensei. You know that.”

            Iruka had laughed then. “What if I showed you a way to write to him every week?”

            The newly minted chuunin had perked up (as much as a Nara could perk, anyways), “Every week? But Tsunade-sama said letters need to be monitored by her and that they can only get them to Jiraiya-sama’s spy network once every two months.”

            Iruka raised an eyebrow. His former student regarded him seriously.

            “Hn. I didn’t really think you’d let him go without having a way to contact him regularly. Yes, Iruka-sensei, I’d like to learn whatever you can teach me to reach him. I have a feeling that there is more to you than anyone knows . . . . even maybe my Touchan. And he’s really smart.”

            “Your father is a genius, Shika-kun. But yes, there are a lot of things people don’t know about me.”

            “Asuma-sensei says I am too. But I wish I wasn’t. It’s a lot of work to be smart.”

            Iruka laughed. “Yes, that sounds like Suma-nii. Now,” he had placed a plate of rice and sweet eggs in front of his former student, “how much do you know about summoning?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            It had been many months since Mizuki had been thrown into prison for ‘treason’ and ‘attacking’ that filthy Kyuubi brat. He really didn’t see the problem and he wanted _blood_. He had it out for the blond demon and the fucker that had taken him in. He always _had_ hated the Sandaime’s favourite little chuunin bitch.

Now, he had recently been hearing from the more sympathetic prison guards that the Sandaime had been snuffed out and his replacement was a woman. Mizuki sniffed. A _woman_. She was probably weak and that left the demon and schoolteacher open to attack. He doubted Iruka would be the favourite twice in a row—even for the outgoing sensei that was a bit of a stretch (it never occurred to him the Kyuubi container might be her favourite).

Iruka might _almost_ be a match for him; he always had been weak and emotional for a shinobi—but Mizuki also knew the man would do anything for his kids and if Mizuki could corner one of _them_ —well.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            It was late in the evening; a couple of months after Kakashi had run away from his chuunin at the gates of Konoha. He had resigned himself to a lonely life—only this time, after learning what it might be like to have a family, a lover, he knew exactly what he was missing. It was a very sorrowful idea. The silver-haired shinobi was just settling in for an evening of melancholy and a bottle of sake when there was a panicked banging at his front door.

            At first, he tried to ignore it.

            It didn’t stop. If anything, it became even more frantic.

            Just as he knocked back his first shot, he heard a soft, pleading, “Kakashi, please.”

            It was Iruka. It was his chuunin. The sake bottle was set to the side immediately and he made his way to the door shakily. He didn’t want to face the sensei, but there was also no force in Konoha that could stop him from opening that door for his Iruka.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Iruka didn’t want to go to Kakashi. He didn’t want to bother him, since apparently, the other nin wanted nothing to do with him. But, it was for one of his kids and Iruka would do anything for them and Kakashi was the only one could help (Nari-chan had told him to suck it up already).

After Mizuki had attacked, Iruka had subdued and restrained him, sending him to Tsunade under Kaminari’s supervision (Shikamaru had volunteered to stay with the kids)—he made sure that the Hokage would be informed that the broken out prisoner had been gunning for her favourite blond ‘gaki.’ Then he had taken off immediately for Kakashi’s with Minkusui in his arms. The two-and-a-half year old clutched her father’s shirt tightly as they waited in the hall for the Copy-Nin to open the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            His Iruka was standing in the hall, one of the triplets clutched tightly in his arms and a worried look on his face.

            “I’m sorry, Kakashi.” And God—if that didn’t sound good rolling off his sensei’s tongue—his name sans honorific . . . . Wait—he’d missed the teacher saying something.

            “I’m sorry?” He made more of an effort to pay attention and not get lost in his own thoughts. He locked eyes with the sensei to help himself stay focused.

            “Can we come in, Kakashi-san? Please? It’s . . . . it’s an emergency.”

            Kakashi nodded and opened the door for them to slip in. Iruka placed his toddler on the kotatsu, still wrapped up and whispered something to her before turning to the Copy-Nin.

            “I’m sorry, Kakashi. I’m so sorry to bother you . . . . I know we haven’t spoken . . . . in a while. But—“ the chuunin wrung his hands and Kakashi wanted to reach out and hold him—but he didn’t want to scare the man away when he was reaching out. “But you’re the only one who can help me.”

            “Me?”

            Iruka nodded. “Kakashi . . . . there’s something I need to tell you. And—“ the chuunin sobbed, “And I need to ask you not to tell anyone.”

            Kakashi frowned and slowly placed a hand on the teacher’s shoulder. “You can tell me anything, Iruka. And I will do anything in my power to help you and your family. I promise.”

            Iruka nodded in obvious relief. “Mizuki was angry with Naruto and I. He didn’t know Naruto was out of town, but he had heard in prison that the Hokage title had passed to Tsunade-hime. He came to the house this afternoon.” Kakashi could feel his muscles coiling, he could feel anger start to pulse through his chakra. Iruka sighed. “When he couldn’t find Naruto, he attacked Nari-chan. I stopped him—he’s not as powerful as he’d like to believe, but—Minku is a precocious child and as you know from when you were with us, the most forward of the three. She had managed to climb out of her crib and she saw Mizuki attack Nari-chan. Nari wasn’t in that bad shape, but from where Minku was standing, she didn’t see her get up for a long time. I dealt with Mizuki as quickly as I could, but she saw us fighting as well. I couldn’t get her to stop screaming until she saw her aunt was okay. But . . . . “

            Kakashi, as much as he wanted to help, was confused. Yes, it was unfortunate that Minku had seen what she had, but it wasn’t unheard of in a ninja family. He slid his arm slowly and protectively around Iruka’s shoulders and murmured softly, “I’m not sure I understand, Iruka.”

            Iruka turned in Kakashi’s arm and sobbed into his shoulder. “She’s adopted, Kakashi.” He looked up at Kakashi with tear-filled eyes. “My kids are adopted . . . . And you’re the only one that can help. Minku,” he pulled out of Kakashi’s grasp to kneel, “come see Touchan, sweetheart.”

            Kakashi watched the toddler crawl over to her papa, and then, when she looked up and raised her arms to be picked up, he saw it. Iruka’s daughter had the Sharingan.

            “Iruka,” Kakashi intoned faintly, “Who exactly are your daughter’s biological parents?”

            Iruka turned to the older man with the toddler in his arms. “You can’t tell, Kakashi. Promise me you won’t tell,” Iruka pleaded. “Please.”

            As Kakashi nodded, Iruka launched into his story about his childhood, and his two brothers of choice. Kakashi listened attentively. Iruka went on to tell him about the night his children were born, about their civilian mother and Itachi (Kakashi couldn’t help but feel relieved that Kaminari was only Iruka’s sister-in-law).

He finished with, “Tachi and Shisui were suspicious of their Uchiha elders. They didn’t trust them and they didn’t want me to be able to be used against them, so they taught me how to resist the Sharingan’s genjutsus. But I have never been particularly proficient at anything to do with genjutsus other than what they taught me. I can’t teach Minku how to use it. More importantly, I can’t teach her how to control it. Kakashi, I need your help. We need your help.”

Kakashi rubbed Iruka’s lower back soothingly. He reached out for Minku and she crawled over into his arms. He looked down into her eyes, blood-red tomoe swirling nervously. “Hi, Minku. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, little one.”

She smiled and placed both hands on his cheeks. “Kapashi-chan!”

He smiled good-naturedly. “Yes, Minku-chan. You remember me.” He imitated his chuunin and placed a gentle kiss on the toddler’s head through his mask. Holding her in his arms it hit him hard just how much he’d missed this over the last year—how much he missed being a part of a family—of this family.

“Kapashi-chan is going to show you his eye, okay? It’s just like yours. Don’t be scared, okay?” The toddler nodded as Iruka watched.

Kakashi slid his hitai-ate up and locked eyes with Minku. He used his Sharingan to turn hers off and smiled at her as her brown eyes showed surprise. The toddler wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her head on his shoulder. She sighed contentedly into his neck. “Kapashi-chan. Missed you, Pashi.”

Iruka smiled when he saw Kakashi’s lips twitch into a smile under his mask.

Kakashi looked up to him. “I’ll do whatever I can to help, Iruka.”

Iruka nodded happily, stepping closer and rubbing a hand down his daughter’s back. “Thank you, Kakashi.”

Kakashi nodded. “Anything.” Then he added with bated breath, “Maybe . . . . maybe I should come and stay with you guys again.” He paused at Iruka’s frown (which he didn’t realise was because Iruka was surprised and not, as Kakashi believed, averse to the idea) and added, “If that’s all right with you. Only if it’s all right with you. That way, if one of the other two activates theirs or Minku can’t turn hers off then I’m there already. I won’t get in the way, I promise. It’s just in case anything happens.”

Iruka nodded. “I think . . . . that’s the best idea, if you don’t mind.” He knew he’d be indebted to the Copy-Nin for this and he was surprised that the man who was so keen on avoiding him was willing to help, but he wasn’t about to refuse him—he had missed him and no matter how hard he had tried to get over the silver-haired shinobi—seeing him so careful and tender with his daughter had slammed all of his feelings right back to the front of his being. If Kakashi was willing to move in, then Iruka really couldn’t refuse him.

As for Kakashi, he was just giddy with the fact that this little crisis may just have earned him a second chance to prove he loved Iruka—a second chance with the whole family that he had never known he wanted but that he missed something fierce once he’d given them up.


	19. I'm Glad You're Back . . . . Asshole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Kishimoto-Ojiisan has that honour. I make no money from writing fanfiction (unfortunately).
> 
> A. N. Hey beeatches, I’m baaaaack! Sorry for the long wait. :) Also, more smut to come soon! :)

            Kakashi had quickly loaded up a rucksack with what he’d need for a couple days at Iruka’s, figuring he’d pick up the rest later in a couple of sealing scrolls. Iruka had waited patiently, balancing Minku on his hip as Kakashi had packed. Now the silver-haired nin was hot on the brunet’s heels running and jumping over the rooftops towards home, the toddler strapped to her dad’s back.

            Kakashi was as nervous as he was excited, and mixed in with that, he was also worried. After all, even with a civilian mother- these were _Itachi Uchiha’s_ biological children- raised by the brattiest nin ever to come out of Konoha (except, perhaps, for his oldest son)- and he only had the Sharingan in one eye. He supposed that right now it wouldn’t matter much- but given time the other two would surely activate their own Sharingans- it was guaranteed for Kawa anyways, as she was Minku’s identical twin, but odds were also still good that Fuchikari would have his as well. That meant they’d outnumber him _three to one_ \- and he’d had trouble working with his pre-genin team-, which had only had _one_ Uchiha and _one_ of Iruka’s kids on it . . . . He had no clue how he’d fare with the triplets. Though, he also supposed, it wasn’t like Iruka could just ask Itachi to come home- and Kakashi didn’t even want to think about Iruka leaving the village with his family to join his brother goodness-knows-where. No- the Copy-Nin decided, he’d make damn sure he was up to the task. He’d already let his genin team down and he’d alienated the best thing to happen to him in years once already- this time was going to be the time he got it right.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Iruka landed softly on the path a few blocks from his house. They would have to walk from here, since there weren’t many tall buildings in this area of the village- it was mostly little houses for families. He heard Kakashi land beside him and he turned slightly to address the older man.

“Sorry, I know you’re probably used to moving faster. It’s not as easy to run with my little monkey strapped in.” He smiled warmly as Kakashi nodded.

“That’s all right. I was a bit distracted anyways.”

“Distracted?” Iruka cocked his head to the side as they slowly began their walk.

Kakashi nodded affirmatively. “Yeah. I mean, I know I completely failed Team Seven—“ he stumbled over his words a little as he dragged a sandaled toe through the dirt. “You were right, by the way. I mean, Naruto was ready. Obviously he did well. But Sakura just coasted on his and Sasuke’s coattails and well. Sasuke. Yeah.” He sighed deeply and focussed on the ground.

Iruka stopped walking and grabbed Kakashi’s arm, halting their progress as he turned the other nin around to face him. “It’s not your fault, you know. You couldn’t have changed what happened.”

“Hm. Yeah.” Kakashi still refused to make eye contact.

“No.” Iruka tugged his stubborn chin up so Kakashi had to meet his gaze. “It’s _not_ your fault. I actually meant to apologize to you about that day. You know, I lost my temper. And obviously, Naruto was ready- I mean, he’s training with one of the _Sannin,_ Kakashi. So is Sakura- and she’s happier now with her more academic pursuits. The hospital will be a good fit for her. And Sasuke. . . . Well, you really can’t blame yourself, Kakashi. He isn’t a little kid anymore, he’s a ninja. He made his choices and Orochimaru—Come _on_ , Kakashi—let’s be honest, strong as you are, not even you can stop _Orochimaru_ when he wants something that badly. And he wants Sasuke. _Yes_ , Sasuke made the wrong decision. But take it from someone who knows his Uchihas. . . . Whether they are right or wrong, once they make up their minds there is no going back. They stick to their guns. Let it go. Be at peace. You can’t save everyone.” Iruka pulled him gently into a hug. “And that’s okay. It’s okay to not be able to do everything.”

Kakashi stood awkwardly in Iruka’s embrace for a few seconds. He didn’t believe everything the sensei said- he still _knew_ it was his fault. . . . but it was kind of nice to be comforted like this. He wrapped his arms around the brunet and buried his face in the other man’s shoulder, biting off a sob. Iruka patted his back consolingly and then stepped back.

“I was going to apologize after we saw Naruto off that day. But then you just disappeared. You looked. . . . almost pained. I know I should have made more of an effort, I feel bad about that- especially now that I know you’ve been beating yourself up about it. So. . . . I’m sorry.” Iruka ran a hand through the hair that had fallen out of his ponytail, then blew the stands out of his face. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry I did it in front of everyone. I know you are all about the rules and that it must have been quite embarrassing to have a chuunin school teacher of all people to berate you in public. It was out of line and unbecoming of a teacher to behave so out of turn.”

Kakashi began to reach for Iruka, who was now apparently very interested in his own feet, then dropped his hand and sighed loudly. “Well, I’m sorry as well. You know, rank doesn’t mean nearly as much to me anymore as it once did. I’d like to think I’ve grown up a little. And like I said, you were mostly right anyways. Maybe we can agree to neither of us being completely right or completely wrong.” He stuck out his hand for Iruka to shake, who took it with a smile.

“I’d like that.”

“And. . . .” Kakashi shrugged, then ran a hand through his hair. “I’m also sorry for what I said. I—“

He turned their hands over to run a finger across the back of Iruka’s hand, then dropped it and looked the brunet in the eyes. “I didn’t mean it. It was harsh and _mean_ , and—“

Iruka reached out and shushed him. “It’s all right. I’ve been told worse.” He smiled a sincere smile, which Kakashi returned, then continued walking slowly towards home, leaving Kakashi to follow behind him.

He sped up a little to catch up. “You have?”

Iruka smiled. “You have no idea how nasty parents can get.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “Especially when they think they know better than a trained professional, just because they’ve been to school.”

“A trained professional?” Kakashi wiggled his eyebrows at the chuunin.

Iruka smacked his arm lightly. “Yes, actually. Once I made the decision to become a teacher, I began correspondence courses from the capital in education. I mean, being a ninja is one thing, knowing how to teach is another. Knowing how to teach a ninja? Well, I’ve learned that that is an entirely other thing on it’s own.”

Kakashi smiled under his mask. “Why am I not surprised?” He shook his head with a laugh. “Classic over-achiever. Classic you. Can’t just be a ninja or a teacher. Got to be _both_. You know, you’re probably the only actually qualified teacher at the academy. Everyone else are just ninjas.”

Iruka clucked at him. “Oh, yes. _Just_ ninjas.” Iruka laughed. “And— _Me_ , the over-achiever?” He shoved the other lightly. “This from you, the bona-fide, certified genius. When did you graduate the academy again? Two? And I am, by the way.”

“Hey—I come by my genius naturally. No work required.” He made a mock-haughty face.

“Hn.” The brunet pitched his voice a bit higher, “ _Naturally_.” He made a childish face. Iruka shoved him again. “I don’t work hard if I don’t have to. I’m actually rather lazy.”

“Well, then we’ll get along just fine, Sensei.” They shared an easy smile.

 _Maybe this won’t be too hard_ , thought Iruka.

While Kakashi thought, _It’s so easy to fall back into this comfortably. Damn, I missed this._

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            As they made their way into the yard, Kaminari peered out of the curtains. Kakashi watched them flutter shut, then she appeared in the front door, a little scraped up, but overall fine. She reached out for her niece, who had woken up on the walk back, and Minku scampered over to her, running her hands over her aunt’s face and hair. “Nari-baa-chan, Nari-baa-chan. . . . You okay, Baa-chan?”

            The teenager laughed lightly. “Were you worried, baby? You don’t have to worry about Nari-baa-chan. I’m good.” She kissed the little girl on the top of her head, then released her into the house, where she ran off to join her siblings, as the grown-ups watched Fuchikari take off across the hall, followed closely by a panting Shikamaru, hands held out in front of him to catch the boy. As the pre-teen caught sight of the grown-ups, he stopped in the hallway.

            “Thank God you’re back, Iruka-sensei.” The boy panted a bit more as he approached. “I know I volunteered for this, but. . . . I have no idea how you do this.” He ran his hand through his no longer existent ponytail, rolling his eyes at the tangled strands. “And that’s after you’re at the academy all day! I’m never babysitting for you again.” He shot a glance behind him when a squeal of laughter echoed through the house. He added vehemently, “Ever.”

            Iruka smiled. “I’m sure you will. And thank you, Shika-kun. I really do appreciate it.” The older brunet wrapped the exhausted boy in a hug. The boy relaxed into it with a groan, leaning his head forward comically.

            “So tiiiiiiiired. Uuuuuuunh.”

            Iruka laughed. “How about some dinner for your troubles? And you’re also welcome to stay the night. You’re always welcome here, Shika-kun.” Iruka nodded to Kaminari. “See Kakashi-san upstairs, will you, please? I’ll just make a quick run down to the BBQ place for some take-out. Back in ten.” He stood Shikamaru up properly, pushing him in the direction of the living area and kissed his sister-in-law on the forehead, waving to Kakashi on his way out.

            Once he was gone, the raven-haired girl turned to Kakashi. She gave him the once-over, then, “So, you’re back, huh?”

            Kakashi nodded. He wasn’t sure what to say.

            “Well, I _guess_ you can have your old room back.” She started walking upstairs, throwing over her shoulder, “Do try _not_ to run away this time. Or screw up.” As she stopped in front of his door she added, “And if you hurt my brother, then Copy-Nin or not, I’ll serve you your own balls on a silver platter.”

            He gulped and nodded, slipping by her as unobtrusively as possible, tossing his bag onto the bed. She spends way too much time with her brother-in-law, the silver-haired man shivered. They were a bad influence on each other, he decided.

            As she turned to go, she added over her shoulder, “Oh, and by the way, welcome back. I’m glad you found your way home. We missed you, you asshole.”

            Kakashi smiled.


	20. A Little More Awkward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Kishimoto-Ojiisan has that honour. I make no money from writing fanfiction (unfortunately).

            It was several days into Kakashi’s latest sojourn chez the Umino family—and not only was he paying better attention now (how had he ever missed that Nari-chan was like Iruka’s little sister?)—but he was also noticing just how backwards everything was this time around. He wasn’t here for a break—like last time, so Iruka was definitely not babying him. As a matter of fact, the brunet seemed to avoid him a little—not enough to be considered impolite, but definitely enough to be noticed. And it irked Kakashi. Now that he understood his feelings and finally wanted to embrace them . . . . his chuunin seemed to be running in the opposite direction.

Maybe Iruka just didn’t feel the same way? No. He had definitely wanted Kakashi to figure out that he was Crow. . . . and they had both seemed to want him. It was more likely (and slightly disappointing) that Kakashi had just waited too long to figure his shit out. Iruka was, after all, not the most patient person and they’d already been dancing around each other going on just over two years now. Fuck. Sometimes Kakashi really wished he were more socially and emotionally adept. Then maybe they wouldn’t have wasted two years.

Their second attempt at co-habitation so far had been rife with awkward silences; bumping into and dancing around each other in hallways and doorways; and—much to the silver-haired nin’s consternation—no more family dinners. It seemed that without Naruto—and the triplets still young; and Shikamaru, Konohamaru, Nari’s friends Hana and her genin teammates rotating through the house at all hours like a revolving door—well, even Iruka the super-dad didn’t bother making everyone sit down for family dinners every night. It was now Kakashi’s new mission to re-instate the dinners he had previously first disdained, second tolerated, but looked down on and then finally, taken for granted. In the week he’d been back, Iruka had only made all of his kids and sister sit down for dinner once—on Sunday evening.

Apparently, the brunet had held out for at least one day a week, but even then, Nari-chan had bolted to a shift at Hana’s as soon as she’d eaten, and instead of requiring Kakashi to be a part of the family meal, Iruka had simply sent Shikamaru to ask him if he’d like to join them. . . . It made Kakashi realise just how much he had taken for granted before and how much he loved being a part of the family—of being purposefully included; now that it was painfully obvious he’d removed himself and was now a (invited, but still) visitor in what he hoped he could once again consider his home.

            He was also trying to do better and come out of his funk, but admittedly, he still drank a bit—especially on nights the rest of the family was otherwise occupied. He was starting to suspect (given the occasion worried glances thrown his way) that both Iruka and Nari suspected something was up. It was also completely and entirely unfair that there were so many people in the house. After nearly two decades of no interest in sexual activity, Kakashi now had a lot of interest—and no more privacy to. . . . take care of things. He felt a sudden sympathy for the young father he was currently pursuing and now understood exactly why Crow would always seem to be masturbating on missions. The silver-haired nin felt positively deprived at the moment. And it had only been a week—then again, he supposed the forced proximity to the object of his desires wasn’t helping matters much.

            On that note, he’d sequestered himself away in his and Hound’s ‘shared’ bathroom and was currently in the throes of. . . . something (it made him blush to admit it) when there was a knock at the door.

He tried to make his voice sound as normal as possible before answering with a small, “Yes?”

“Oh! Oh, sorry,” came the chipper reply, “I was just cleaning all of the washrooms.” A rag was waved through the small gap in the slightly open door. “Do you have any laundry that needs washing?”

Kakashi, not wanting to send Iruka away when the brunet was making an effort to be all domestic and cute (well, maybe he wasn’t trying to be cute, but even so), quickly struggled out of the tub and into a (hopefully fluffy enough to hide his problem) towel. He stumbled to the door and opened it, leaning as casually as he could against the doorframe while still holding part of it in front of him.

“Um. . . . Sorry, Kakashi-san. I didn’t realise. . . .”

Kakashi shook his head. “That’s all right, Iruka. Thank you for checking on me. I do have a few linens and shirts to be washed.” He smiled and then put his Mission: Family Meals into action. “But, if you’re going to be helping with my washing up, then I do feel the need to repay you.”

Iruka shook his head vehemently. “Of course not, Kakashi-san. You are already helping us just by being here.”

Kakashi sighed internally. Of course the brunet would see it that way. Kakashi smiled outwardly and shook his head. Of course— _he_ knew that he was here to get what he had begun to think of as his family back—but as far as Iruka was concerned—Kakashi was being put out just to help his kids.

“No,” the silver-haired man began softly, “I. . . .”

Iruka regarded him curiously and waited patiently.

He tried again. “I messed up. I mean—we were—“ here he paused and pondered what he should say next—he still hadn’t told Iruka that he knew he was Crow. Iruka also didn’t know then, that Kakashi knew that the chuunin knew he was Hound (and did that confuse even him, lol), so. . . . He decided to play it on the safer side. “Really good friends and I. . . . I was an idiot and perhaps a bit of a coward too, and I’ve regretted losing you. . . . _all_ of you guys for all of that time because of it. Please, let me do something to make up for it.”

Iruka sighed and almost pulled Kakashi to him by the forearm—then seemed to remember Kakashi was nearly naked and dripping wet—and dropped his hand with a hot blush. “You really don’t—“

“Let me do it for me, then. To make _me_ feel better.” Kakashi held his breath, hoping that Iruka would allow him this when he put it that way.

Iruka smiled indulgently, almost as if he knew Kakashi was maybe manipulating him a tiny bit but letting him get away with it anyways, “What did you have in mind?”

Kakashi grinned internally, glad for the towel he’d managed to snag on his way to the door and cover his face with—or Iruka would definitely have been able to read his triumphant expression. “How about a home cooked dinner? I seem to remember that was a tradition around here every night?”

Iruka blushed heavily again, “Yes—well. . . . It’s just that. . . .” He sighed.

“It’s different without the whole family.” Kakashi opened the door fully and placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Take it from someone who has sat down to dinner by himself for nearly the last year because of what a fool I made of myself. I _know_ how you feel.” He squeezed gently.

Iruka nodded. “After Naruto-kun left with Jiraiya-san. Well. . . . And you had been gone for a while too. . . . and, um, Hound, too. . . . Nari-chan had a lot of the night shifts with Hana. . . . Everyday seemed like a lot to ask of everyone—and then Shika-kun and Kono-kun started showing up at all hours and any semblance of regularity fell apart.” He sighed. “It’s been all I could do to hold onto Sundays.” He smiled ruefully. “A family dinner sounds wonderful.”

Kakashi wanted to wrap the other up in a tight, warm hug. Instead, he clapped him on the shoulder, then let his hand fall. “We’ll get everyone together again, don’t worry, Iruka. I’m not going anywhere this time,” he assured, happy to have been included in Iruka’s ‘everyone.’

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            When Iruka finally escaped Kakashi’s bathroom, he quickly made his way to his own en suite, dropping the laundry basket outside of it and locking the door behind him as he tried to calm himself. He was amazed he’d made it through that in one piece. From the second Kakashi had opened the door, all Iruka could think about was that first naughty daydream he’d had of the Copy-Nin, the one where he’d imagined pushing him up against the hall wall and ravishing the fair-skinned, silver-haired beauty. Iruka could feel himself getting hotter already.

            He banged his head back on the door and berated himself—the man had only been in his house for a week for shit’s sake, and he was already lusting after him again. Iruka could almost cry.

            Instead, he gave in and started to slide his clothes off, piece by piece hitting the floor softly as he ran calloused hands down his own sweaty skin, cock swelling and nipples pebbling into hard nubs. He groaned as his hand finally found it’s way down to his shaft, stroking firmly and pulsing hotly. He lost himself to the blinding pleasure, building as he stroked faster, barely keeping himself standing as his ass repeatedly smacked against the wall each time his hips snapped away from his fist. He shuddered as beads of sweat slid down his sides and back, leaving tingly waves of pleasure in their wake. He grasped at the knob of the door behind him, holding tightly as he finally gave a last tug and tumbled over the edge. He groaned as he slid to the floor, covered in sweat ad come, and thunked his head onto bent knees in resignation. He was so screwed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Across the hall, Kakashi sighed in pleasure and cleaned himself up with a towel—content in the knowledge that even though they were a hundred feet away, with two sets of walls between them—they’d finally come together. (He was glad Iruka was so distracted. Otherwise, he might have noticed Kakashi’s chakra perving—er. . . . pinging on his.) Kakashi smirked and settled back in the tub. He couldn’t wait to make this work.


	21. Band-Aids and Plum Wine

**A.N. Previous disclaimers still stand. Do not own, make no money caveat still applies.**

            Kakashi hummed as he pranced around the kitchen, stirring here, chopping there. He’d never been one to enjoy cooking before—food was a necessity and nothing else. Now, though, now he was actually enjoying this—happy to be creating something (hopefully) wonderful for his little (um . . . . big-ish, I mean seriously, his chuunin collected family like no one’s business) family to bring them together. He had the usual rice going—Iruka had, thankfully, a rather large rice-cooker. He also had a salad set off to the side (not anyone’s favourite, but it was good for a family of ninjas to eat well, if Kakashi did say so himself—which he did). There were also vegetables and dumplings in the steamer, saury on the grill and a miso boiling away in a pot. He also had some grilled veggies getting their char on, where he was currently standing in front to watch, his butt wiggling behind him as he bobbed his head to his humming (to a tune he’d heard Gai listen to before—the spandex-clad muscle-man enjoyed workout music and often shared his tunes with his sometimes forced, sometimes happy) sparring partner.

He jumped slightly as he heard a low chuckle and some slow clapping behind him.

“I had no idea you could shake your butt quite like that, Kakashi-san.” Iruka was leaning in the doorjamb.

Kakashi blushed. Iruka made his way into the room slowly. He peered in glass-covered dishes and sniffed at the dumplings appreciatively.

“I also had no idea you could cook.” He smiled. “It smells good.”

Kakashi scratched the back of his head self-consciously. “It’s a hobby I only recently picked up.”

Iruka nodded. “Well, I know you said you wanted everyone to join us, so I also invited Gai-sensei. I hope that’s all right? I know you two are pretty close. I hope there’s enough food. I meant to ask you yesterday, but got called away to that emergency at the Academy.”

Kakashi nodded. “Of course that’s all right.” He waved the bottle of plum wine he’d been sipping on at Iruka. “Care for a glass?”

Iruka smiled and pulled a wine goblet out of the cupboard. “Love one. It’s been a long day. Do you need a hand?”

Kakashi shook his head. “Nah. Shika-kun is staying over. Don’t get me wrong—he’s no Naruto, but it’s kind of nice to have one of his friends around. He set the table already and everything is almost done. Just waiting for the eggplant, squash and daikon to get nice and grilled.”

Iruka hummed. “Mmmmm, I love hot, buttery grilled squash. The eggplant is pretty good too. Just a sprinkle of spice over the top.”

Kakashi grinned as he poured Iruka’s wine. “I’m rather partial to the eggplant myself.” He pulled the dishcloth from his shoulder and wiped up a splash of the wine he’d managed to drop on the counter. He watched Iruka for a moment, contemplating his options. “You know, I kind of like this whole domestic thing. Never thought I would.” He sipped thoughtfully at his glass.

Iruka cocked an eyebrow. “The whole domestic thing?” he questioned. He reached over and stole a chunk of carrot from the salad, Kakashi scrunching his nose at him, to be answered with a cheeky grin.

“Yeah. You know. . . . cooking, white picket fence. . . . having a family.” He kept his eyes down, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass.

Iruka hummed thoughtfully under his breath, took his time to think on his response. “Yes. It is quite something, isn’t it? I never thought it’s a privilege I’d be honoured to have. . . . being gay and all. But. . . . I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Kakashi looked up, well that was hopefully a step forward—Iruka admitting to him he was gay—him, not to Hound, not as Crow; just Iruka talking to Kakashi. Confiding in him. He smiled. “I must admit, I envy you this. I understand too. . . . I—well, I may as well admit it—I’m gay, but I didn’t realise it until later in life and I had never even contemplated family. It just. . . . didn’t mesh with the warrior’s life my father groomed me for. Perhaps an arranged marriage to produce an heir was somewhere in his plans, but that would have been the most I could have looked forward to.”

Iruka studied him so long that Kakashi wasn’t sure he’d answer. Then, “I don’t want to sour the mood. I don’t want to feel awkward anymore, but I think that maybe the best thing would be to just say this. Get it out in the open, out of the way. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. Then maybe we can move past it, but—“ the brunet sighed and ran a hand through his hair, setting his glass down on the counter before breathing deeply and continuing, very quietly, “You envy me this? You _had_ this, Kakashi. You did. We were your family—or at least we thought we were. Even Kaminari thought you’d stay with us. At the beginning, yeah. It was about getting you back to yourself. But then. . . . then it became _more_. I thought you _knew_ that. We all thought you knew that. We may not be a traditional family or a perfect one or—the point is, _my_ point is, we became a family in your time here. We still. . . . _I_ still don’t understand why you left.” He added even quieter, “It was never just a mission for me. I refused to let the Sandaime pay me to let you stay here. I just thought you should know that. I’m not trying to make you feel like you owe me anything, I’m not trying to sing my own praises. I just wanted you to know that we really did want you here. _That I wanted you here_.”

Iruka looked up at him, and Kakashi gulped. “You’re the great Copy-Nin. I don’t think anyone quite understands you completely. . . . what it’s like to be you, what you’ve given up for this village, what you’ve had to go through as a child soldier. But I want you to know that as different as we may seem on the surface, Kakashi I _do_ understand at the very least what it’s like to be left with no family. With all of your precious people ripped from you forcefully one by one. I. . . . I hope you felt welcomed here. I wish you understood that I wanted you to feel comfortable, and loved and included because I thought that as orphans, at least, you, Naruto, Kaminari and I were kindred spirits in that. I wanted you to feel like you could confide in me, you could lean on me as a support. I thought we had become, at the very least, if not family, then friends. I— _why did you leave_?”

Iruka turned pleading eyes on him and Kakashi froze. He didn’t know what to say. What do you say when someone bares their soul like that? As much as he wanted this, Kakashi still wasn’t good at feelings, at communicating. After what seemed like an eternity, all he could choke out was a strangled, “I’m sorry.”

Iruka waited. When it seemed Kakashi would say nothing else, he sighed and stood up. “I’m sorry too.” And he left the kitchen. Kakashi downed the last of his wine in one shot, resolutely turning off the grill, where the veggies had started to smell a bit burned, then he reached over and drained Iruka’s glass as well. Fuck, he was an idiot, because if any opening had been more perfect, well. . . . and he’d blown it. _Again_. Shit.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

            Dinner was good, if not what he’d envisioned. Iruka seemed like he was slightly strained, but still making an effort. Having Gai there was a good buffer, though when he took Kakashi to the side after saying his goodbyes to congratulate him on the family he’d made for himself, the silver-haired nin had cringed on the inside. When Gai had told him to take good care of them, Kakashi had quickly sent him off for the evening and spent the rest of the night drowning in glass after glass of wine.

Kaminari had volunteered to put the triplets down for bed, Shikamaru had headed home just after Gai and Iruka had insisted on doing the dishes since Kakashi had cooked. That left Kakashi alone with his thoughts, and, in his opinion, entirely not enough alcohol. By the time Iruka had finished the dishes, the kids were settled in for the night and Kaminari had left for Hana’s.

Kakashi was still in the living room nursing his third bottle of plum wine when Iruka had come in, taken it from him, told him he’d had quite enough to drink and point-blank told him to go to bed.

At first, Kakashi had obliged obediently, trooping upstairs and sitting on his bed dutifully (still fully clothed, and not a bit sleepy); until his alcohol-addled brain decided that he needed to explain why he’d left to Iruka. His drunken self thought it was the most brilliant idea to take off his mask, stumble across the hallway and bang loudly on the brunet’s bedroom door.

Kakashi blinked owlishly when Iruka, clad only in pyjama bottoms, hair loose around his shoulders and puzzled expression on his face came to the door, wrapping a dressing gown tied closed on the way.

“Kakashi?” he whispered incredulously. “What are you doing?”

“’m here ta ‘splain.”

One of Iruka’s brows rose. “Kakashi-san. I think you’re drunk. Very drunk. And you’re not wearing your mask. Let’s get you to bed.” He reached over to pull Kakashi’s arm off the jamb, trying to lead him back across the hall.

“No.” Kakashi planted his feet. “’m an idiot.”

“Well, this isn’t your brightest idea ever, but I wouldn’t say that.” The brunet soothed placatingly. He tugged a bit harder on Kakashi’s arm. Kakashi didn’t budge. Instead, he turned around and held onto Iruka’s shoulders.

They stood like that silently for a few long moments. Then Kakashi slurred, “No. ‘m an idiot. Shoun’ta left. ‘m Hound and you’re Crow. Know that now. Love you.” Then he leaned forward and planted his lips to the brunet’s.


	22. Try That Again

**Chapter 22: Let’s Try That Again**

 

A.N. Disclaimers still apply. Please don’t sue me.

           

            Kakashi woke up feeling fuzzy. The previous night was a blur, but he knew at least one thing for sure: he had drunk way too much. He tried not to move too much (that hurt his head) as he took stock of his situation. He was in bed. He had no mask and no shirt, only his uniform pants left on. His covers had an extra quilt added to them, and there were pain-killers and a glass of water were on his bedside table. Which meant that for some reason, Iruka had tucked him in last night.

Kakashi made his way downstairs cautiously. He couldn’t hear any of the kids and he was a bit leery since he couldn’t, for the life of him, remember what had happened the previous night after Gai had left. When he got downstairs, he found Iruka alone in the kitchen, cheerily making breakfast and humming quietly to himself. Kakashi paused in the doorway, leaning on the jamb and watching the chuunin silently.

“Not that I’m complaining about the quiet, but where is everyone?”

Iruka startled slightly, then smiled at the silver-haired shinobi. “Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Kakashi saluted. “Morning, you’re up early.”

“I had trouble sleeping last night.”

Kakashi frowned. “How come?” He sauntered into the room slowly, running his hand over the counter. He popped a slice of turnip into his mouth, crunching the spicy vegetable. “Are you all right?”

Iruka dropped more veggie into the pot of simmering broth on the stove. “I think so. Better than all right, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Depends on you, I guess.”

Kakashi pointed to himself, pulling an incredulous face. “Me?” He popped a carrot into his mouth next.

Iruka hummed non-committally and turned to face the older man after dumping a load of onions into the pot. “How much of last night do you actually remember?”

Kakashi gulped. _Oh. Oh shit. I wonder what I did?_ “Um . . . . not much after Gai left?” He shrugged apologetically.

Iruka sighed. He scrunched his face up, then relaxed, seeming to come to a decision. “Do you mind if I show you something?”

Kakashi arched an eyebrow. “Okay?”

Iruka smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s not anything bad . . . . at least I don’t think so.” He pulled Kakashi away from the counter to stand properly in front of him. “You’re going to need the Sharingan for this.”

“I’m what?” He looked on, shell-shocked, as Iruka turned off the burner and faced him. Most people were afraid of the Sharingan—not asking for it.

Iruka smiled reassuringly. “I’m going to give you my memory of last night.” He shrugged. “You know, see what you make of it?”

Kakashi gulped. Holy fuck, he hoped he hadn’t made too much of a fool of himself. He shook himself then nodded, pulling up his hite-ate and looking Iruka dead in the eyes.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Kakashi could see himself sitting on the kotatsu in the living room, a bottle of plum wine in his hand. In his peripheral vision, he noted a tan hand, seeming to be his own (which must mean it was Iruka’s) reaching out and taking it from him.

After a few moments, Kakashi saw himself nod obediently. Then he watched as he trudged upstairs. The living room shifted slightly, indicating that Iruka must have shaken his head before heading into the kitchen to put the leftover bottle of wine in the fridge. Then he watched the steps rush past as he made his way up them, stopping to check in Naruto’s room to see if either of his usual covert houseguests had snuck in, and then, surprisingly enough, Kakashi’s own door. He watched in fascination as the brunet slowly eased the door open a crack and watched him sit on his bed staring forlornly off into space for a minute, before quietly and gently shutting it and making his way into Iruka’s en-suite.

He watched as the tan nin’s clothes hit the floor and pyjama bottoms were pulled out of the drawer; as a tan hand reached out to pet one of the triplet’s dark locks in their cot as he checked on them before heading into the en-suite again to pick up the discarded clothes and drop them in the hamper. Then, weirdly enough, he looked up and saw Iruka’s reflection staring back at him from the mirror. The pony-tailed teacher let his hair down and brushed his fingers through it, frowning when his fingers caught in a tangle. Then he brushed his teeth and ran one of his hands wistfully over a scar on his left hip—incidentally, Kakashi remembered Crow getting that one on a mission last year—it had been a poisonous missive that hit the younger man and he had actually been a bit worried about whether or not his partner would make it to a medi-nin on time. As his reflection’s fingers rested lightly on his hip, his eyes slid over to the toddlers’ cot in the room proper and the young father visibly heaved a deep sigh. Kakashi gulped. Iruka probably knew that had been a dangerous poison too—and if Kakashi thought he had trouble leaving Iruka and Naruto behind, he could only imagine what went through Iruka’s head each time he had to leave all of his kids behind. _Maybe_ , Kakashi thought, _maybe if they worked it out and they had a combined income, Iruka wouldn’t have to head out so often on A and S-ranks anymore. Kakashi wouldn’t even have to take ANBU missions anymore either for them to make enough to support themselves comfortably, with even a bit to spare—if he had a family to come home to, which he hoped he would, he wouldn’t feel the need to take them and since Jounin made slightly more than chuunin on average nd Iruka had finally gotten the headmaster’s position (and the raise that came with it), they’d be more than okay._ Realising he had been drifting into his own daydream, Kakashi pulled himself back to Iruka’s memory, digging his fingers slightly into Iruka’s forearm to help himself concentrate, as the younger nin seemed to think the hung-over Jounin may need the support to stay upright while using the Sharingan. As he concentrated, he realise Iruka must have made it over to his bed while Kakashi was out of it and watched as a scroll was opened, the young headmaster reading over some test results contained therein. Then his view abruptly changed as Iruka’s gaze snapped to the door. His eyes slid to the triplets as his vision moved quickly, Iruka obviously in a hurry to get to the door. Kakashi started to feel very nervous, as he knew by this point in the memory that not only was he drunk, but he was probably awake—which would mean that given Iruka’s reaction—he was most likely banging loudly on the chuunin’s bedroom door at an ungodly hour of the night.

_Yup. There he was, in all of his misplaced idiotic and socially inept glory._ Kakashi blinked owlishly, leaning on the doorjamb heavily on one side, his other hand reaching out towards the door to knock again, then falling as his face slackened— _oh shit, his mask had been off—that was not how he’d wanted Iruka to first see his face, damnit_!

Memory Kakashi looked like he was concentrating hard and staring somewhere in the vicinity of Iruka’s mouth, so present Kakashi assumed the younger nin had been talking, He concentrated hard on the memory to lip-read what he’d said to Iruka.

“’m here ta ‘splain.”

Kakashi looked like he was thinking again, even going so far as to lean forward and squint, as if that would help him hear whatever the brunet had been saying. A tan hand reached over to pull Kakashi’s arm off the jamb, trying to lead him back across the hall.

“No.” Present Kakashi groaned inwardly as his memory-self refused to budge and read his lips again. “’m an idiot.” _Yes you are, memory-me. Yes you are._

The silver-haired memory’s gaze went to the brunet’s hand rubbing a soothing circle on his forearm as he again must have spoken, and obviously tugging harder to make the other man follow him back to his own bedroom, presumably to tuck him in.

Memory-Kakashi’s arms shot out of Iruka’s grasp to land (presumably) somewhere near the brunet’s shoulders. Present-Kakashi’s stomach dropped as he recognised the look forming on his own face. _Oh, fuck, what had he done?_

The few moments the memory-shinobi stood like that seemed to tick by like an eternity for present-Kakashi. Then he read his own lips as he began to speak again, “No. ‘m an idiot. Shoun’ta left. ‘m Hound and you’re Crow. Know that now. Love you.” Then he watched in morbid fascination as tipsy memory-him leaned forward and planted his lips to the brunet’s. _Oh, shit._

Reality hit him hard as he slammed back into his own mind, in the present, in the now seemingly frigid kitchen, where he wanted to drop to his knees and curl up in the foetal position. Instead, he tried for a cocky smile and almost whispered, “I guess I finally managed to give it to you, then.”

“Huh?” Iruka frowned and moved forward to try and support the now-shaky silver-haired man. “Give me . . . . what?”

Kakashi smiled sardonically beneath his mask. “My first kiss.”

Iruka’s eyes widened, and if Kakashi wasn’t so panicked right now, he’d almost laugh at how comically wide the brunet’s pupils were blown. He felt fingers tighten on his forearms almost painfully. “Your _what_?” The brunet’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gaping for air. “No—no. . . . that can’t be possible. You’re. . . . you’re—no!” He started shaking his head, almost frantically. “Then—“

Kakashi cocked his head to the side, frowning slightly. “Yeah. Not the way I wanted to give it to you. . . . but—it’s always been yours, I think. From the second you stormed into my life. Or maybe, since the first time I saw you smile. I don’t know. I’m not even sure anymore, but. . . . Yeah. I guess that I’ve kind of, sort of been in love with you for pretty much the past two years.” He shrugged apologetically. “It’s why I left. I was scared. I panicked. So, I did what I do best and I ran and pretended I couldn’t feel anything.”

“You—“ Iruka did a bit more fish-face gaping, then took a swing at the older nin. “You—for two years? THE LAST TWO WHOLE DAMN YEARS KAKASHI?!”

Kakashi nodded sheepishly. “Uh. . . . sorry? I love you?” He backed up a few paces. It was never as funny or as hot when Iruka’s ire was directed at him.

Iruka’s arms dropped to his sides. “Is that a question?” If it was even possible, he cocked and eyebrow and frowned at the same time. Yup, it was definitely possible.

Kakashi shook his head. “No.” The Copy-nin squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. This could be really awkward for them later if it didn’t go well, but, he’d never forgive himself and he’d always regret it if he didn’t even try, so. . . . in for a penny, in for a pound. He looked directly into Iruka’s eyes with his one normal one. “I love you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for what he thought would be the inevitable, ‘Too late.’ from his sensei’s mouth. Instead, he felt warmth wash over him as the other man stepped into his personal space, then warming heat as fingers gently soothed the frown lines out of his forehead. A searing blush colouring his neck, as fanning puffs of breath hit him as Iruka leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Your first kiss, really?”

Kakashi nodded, blushing bright tomato red as he stumbled over his words. “Y-yeah. I’m not like, a _virgin_ or anything, but my mask. . . . so yeah. Um, yeah. . . . Mask.” He fidgeted, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

He gulped and took a deep breath as Iruka laughed throatily and whispered in his ear, “Oh, I’m not worried about that. In _fact_. . . . I made sure Shika-kun and Kono-kun took the kids to the park today. You know, just in case this went as well as I’d been hoping. They’re gone for a picnic. And a walk. And playing at the sandbox. And flying kites and probably cloud-watching, or grassy-hill napping; knowing Shika-kun if he can get them to sleep. They’re going to be gone all day, really, sleeping beauty.”

Kakashi shivered as the brunet added, “Not that we’re going to be sleeping. Because if that was your first kiss, I feel like you’ve been cheated. We’re going to have to try that again.”

Kakashi could only nod as they disappeared in a puff of leaves to the master bedroom upstairs.

 

  1. **N. Sorry I’ve been gone so long!! I hope to be a bit more consistent with updates for the next few months. Real life just kind of happened for a while there, though. We will continue with the happy smut next chapter, right where we left off today. It’s been a while since I worked on this and given my work style, I hope I still managed to keep them in the characterizations I’ve been using for this fic. Love and bisous, Niecey.**




	23. If That’s Okay, Some Other Things He Hasn’t Tried

**Chapter 23 : If That’s Okay, Some Other Things He Hasn’t Tried**

Disclaimer: Same applies. No money, please don’t sue me.

 

            As soon as they shunshinned into the bedroom, Iruka pushed Kakashi up against the wall hard, running a hand through silver locks, then pulling the other shinobi’s head back to look in his eyes. “The first time you stayed here, I ran into you dripping wet in a towel in the hall.”

            Kakashi grunted as Iruka leaned back to yank off the Copy-nin’s shirt. As tan hands ran up and down his sides, Iruka continued, “Ever since then, I’ve been having this recurring daydream, see?”

            The brunet then slid his hands under the bottom of Kakashi’s mask, pausing to get confirmation from the other man, in the form of a short nod, before pulling that up and over his head too. “Now, in this daydream, you’re naked—except for a small towel tied at your waist, see. Then there’s the fact that you’re dripping wet and I get to slide my hands all over your slick, hot skin. I get to push you up against the wall and kiss you silly. You know, the kind where you can’t even remember your own name?”

Kakashi grinned. “No, actually, I wouldn’t know.”

            Iruka grinned back, licking, kissing and nipping his way up Kakashi’s neck. “Oh that’s the best part though—if you haven’t been properly kissed yet, well, then that just means that there is so much that I get to show you.”

            Iruka then promptly pinned Kakashi’s arms above their heads by his wrists in one hand, as his other made it’s way down to a slender hip, holding tight, and one leg pushed itself in between the Copy-nin’s, altogether effectively pinning him to the wall, where the brunet went on to show Kakashi exactly what he’d been missing all these years.

            Hot lips and tongue made their way slowly across a silver-stubble coated jaw, to meet thin pink lips in a firm caress. When Iruka swiped a tongue across his lover’s lips for the first time, the spiky-haired shinobi gasped, giving the younger nin the chance to slide a slick tongue into the other’s mouth. It was at that point that Kakashi lost all sense of rational, coherent thought, instead lost in the slick slide of tongue on tongue as Iruka swirled them around his mouth, coaxing the other man to play with him. When the pony-tailed chuunin finally pulled back to look Kakashi in the eyes, it was to the sight of lust-glazed orbs, dazedly peering back at him with a goofy grin on his face.

            “Holy, fuck that was amazing.” Kakashi leaned forwards slightly (as far as his captive wrists would allow him to lean, anyways) to chase the feeling.

            Iruka grinned broadly. “Oh, Kakashi. You ain’t seen nothing yet, sexy.” He winked.

            The Copy-nin strained slightly on his arms, pulling forward even more. “What happens next?”

            “Next I would run my hand up and under your teasing little towel.” Iruka demonstrated his point by jerking the hand on his lover’s hip through a belt loop, knocking their cocks together through the layers of fabric. Kakashi’s head fell forward onto Iruka’s shoulder as he groaned. _Oh, shit this was so much better than his imagination. Than jerking himself off . . . . and they were still fully clothed._

            Iruka chuckled lowly, “Are you going to be a good boy if I let you go?” Kakashi nodded and Iruka released his wrists to drop to his knees in front of the other man and rub his face teasingly over the bulge in the Copy-nin’s trousers, making sure to look up through thick lashes and blink innocently as he asked, “What do you want me to do, Kakashi?”

            Kakashi gulped. Red as a tomato, he whispered, “I don’t know.” He bit his lip.

            Iruka clucked. “Oh, no, sugar. That just won’t do.” He shook his head sadly. “I’m going to need you to tell me what you want.” He nodded seriously to emphasise his point, both eyebrows rising to wait for a response.

            Kakashi clenched his fists at his sides, turned his head slightly to the side. “I want you to—I want . . . . to . . . . I want you to—“ he trailed off, but Iruka caught one word on his last shaky breath, “suck . . . . “

            The brunet grinned wolfishly. He rocked Kakashi’s hips once, bumping him gently against the wall to bring his attention back to his face as he spoke, “You want me to suck?”

            Kakashi nodded.

            “Suck what, love?” The bratty chuunin pulled one pale hand towards himself, sliding his tongue over the palm and all the way up the longest finger. Keeping eye contact with the other man, he sucked the digit into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. Kakashi made a choked gurgling noise as Iruka bobbed forward on the finger once, then pulled back. He shook his head jerkily.

            “No?” Iruka’s brow rose again in mock misunderstanding, “Not what you had in mind?”

            Kakashi shook his head again, slower.

            “Just tell me then.” He leaned back on his haunches, letting go of the other nin completely. “You know, I don’t want anyone to think I took advantage of you or anything.” He shrugged. “Surely, with all of those books you read, you can tell me exactly what you want, no?”

            “Good fuck, Iruka, just suck my cock already!” Kakashi threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, then blushed even harder, all the way down his neck.

            “Glad to.” And immediately, Iruka was back in Kakashi’s personal space, quickly unzipping his trousers and pushing them to the floor. As Kakashi watched Iruka make short work of his underpants too, he wondered if Iruka had been giving him an opportunity to back out, just in case. All other ponderings were cut short though as a hot mouth engulfed him, and all he could hear was the obscene slurping as he experienced one of his hottest wet dreams personified—Iruka sucking him off in real life—without the ANBU mask. His head thudded back against the wall and he braced himself with one bent knee as he pulled out the sensei’s hair tie, digging his fingers firmly into thick, silky locks. As if that encouraged him, Iruka took a deep breath through his nose and deep-throated the jounin, wrenching a growl from his pale throat. Then the brunet pulled all the way back, letting go with a pop.

            Kakashi cocked his head as Iruka slowly walked backwards, towards the bed, stripping off his own clothes as he went. When the brunet felt the bed behind him, he crawled up onto it, keeping eye contact and staying on his knees so he stayed at the same height. He reached out both arms towards the other man, who stepped into them willingly.

            “Well. We know you’re not a virgin . . . . but if that was your first kiss, I wonder what else you haven’t done?” Iruka flopped backwards, pulling Kakashi on top of him. His tone of voice stated clearly he wanted to do whatever the Copy-nin had missed out on, but from Iruka’s body language and the way he’d positioned them, it was also obvious to the silver-haired nin what the brunet expected, and yet . . . .

            He hid his face in Iruka’s neck as he whispered, “Bottomed. I’ve never bottomed before.”

            Iruka leaned further into the mattress, pushing the other man back enough to look him in the eye. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out for a second. Then he tried again, “You say that like—“

            “Like I want to.” Kakashi didn’t break eye contact.

            Iruka cocked his head to the side. “You do?”

            Kakashi nodded. “Is that okay? I mean, how do you . . . . you know, usually . . . . “

            “Uh, I go both ways, actually. I just figured, I mean, you’re you, so . . . . “ He trailed off with a shrug and a smile.

            “Um, yeah. I mean,” Kakashi sat back on his heels a bit and Iruka propped himself up on his elbows. “Missions you know . . . . I mean no one has ever dared . . . . I mean, that was only the second time I’ve ever even been sucked off you know—and the other time was, well, it was kind of you too that time, too.”

            “Hold on, wait.” Iruka frowned slightly and waved Kakashi quiet with a hand. “You mean to tell me,” he paused and shook his head slightly, “that that time with Crow was your first blowjob? Like, ever?”

            Kakashi shrugged and nodded. “Well, before you, sex was kind of like, for missions only.”

            Iruka looked at him incredulously, _I mean—he’d assumed a long time ago that Kakashi was straight or asexual, but once he’d found out he wasn’t, well, he’d just assumed—_ the sensei’s musings were cut short with an interruption.

            “And I know it’s me, but. It’s you, too. I mean, Ruka—this is you. You’ve never been cowed by me. I don’t see why that should change now. That’s . . . .” Kakashi bit his lip and sighed. “That’s okay, right? I mean, it’s all right if we, you know . . . .”

            Iruka grinned and snorted. “Yeah, I was planning for us to do a lot of ‘you know,’” he laughed as he used air quotes, Kakashi swatting him on the arm for his troubles. “And yeah, eventually I assumed we’d probably go both ways, I mean—well, let’s just say I can be _adventurous_ . . . . but if you’ve really never, well, then maybe it’s best if we save that for, well—not for the first time, you know, when you’re sure and you’re ready—“

            Kakashi scrunched his nose up a bit. “I am.”

            “You’re sure?”

            The silver-haired shinobi sighed. “I’ve never bottomed, before, Iruka. I’m not a child.”

            “Ok, ok,” the brunet waved his hands placatingly. “Ok.” He cocked his head to the side. “Hold on a minute, then, ok?”

            Kakashi nodded and Iruka slid out from beneath him, heading over to the en-suite, where the Copy-nin could hear him rummaging around in the vanity cupboards. As he sauntered back, dripping cock proudly leading the way, Kakashi cocked his head to the side. Iruka smiled and showed him the bottle—scented massage oil.

            “It helps if you’re relaxed.” The brunet made it to the bed and guided Kakashi up the top of it, gesturing for him to lie on his stomach. “Believe me. My first time was . . . . not comfortable, let’s say.” He grimaced slightly, then went to straddle the back of Kakashi’s thighs.

            The silver-haired nin shook his head, trying to turn back on his back. “No, I want to see you.”

            Iruka grinned and leaned forward to kiss him chastely. “And you will, love. Just trust me, ok?”

            Kakashi nodded and settled onto his stomach, peeking over one of his elbows to try and peer backwards. Iruka popped the cap of the bottle after rolling it in his hands to heat it up, then dripped the warm oil into his palm and over Kakashi’s back. He began working on the pale shinobi’s spine, right above his waist and worked his way up the lower back with sure, firm strokes. He kneaded his fingers into pale flesh, working out any knots and rubbing his lover down into a mushy pile of goo. When he deemed Kakashi relaxed enough, he slid his hands slowly down his back and over pale ass cheeks, appreciating the view. As he leaned forward with a devious grin (if Kakashi had never bottomed, and no one had dared to suck him off, well then he was _definitely_ in for a surprise, as he’d never guess what Iruka was about to do next), he bit his lip to stop a quiet chuckle from escaping. Then he shimmied down and made himself more comfortable before swiping his tongue right up the cleft between the two pale cheeks.

            Kakashi tensed slightly and gasped in surprise, turning half over to face the brunet with a questioning look. Iruka smiled and repeated himself. “Trust me.”

            The silver-haired nin looked a bit sceptical, “But—“

            Iruka shook his head. “Trust me.”

            Kakashi nodded and relaxed back onto his stomach.

            Iruka rubbed soothing circles into his lover’s pale skin, helping the tension to flow out once more, then continued his ministrations, working Kakashi’s tight ring of muscle open with first his tongue, then adding one finger, then two. As he scissored his fingers in and out, Kakashi forgot to think about where exactly his lover’s tongue was and completely lost himself to the sensation of his prostate being stimulated for the first time. As he keened loudly when a third finger was added, Iruka nodded to himself. Finally, he pulled back and spoke.

            “Okay, love, turn over and look at me.” Kakashi obeyed quickly and Iruka smiled warmly at him, before crawling back up his body to kiss him once again. “Are you ready?”

            As Kakashi nodded, Iruka slicked himself up and nudged himself against his lover, then pushed his head slowly in as the Copy-nin groaned lowly, biting his lip. “Okay?”

            Kakashi nodded, lifting a leg to wrap around Iruka’s backside, encouraging him to sink deeper into him. Pale fingers dug into Iruka’s bicep and lower back and Iruka had to remind the other man to breathe. Completely sheathed in the Copy-nin, Iruka pulled back from Kakashi’s neck to look him in the eye again. “Oaky?”

            “Oh, shiiit, yeah.” He groaned. “Move.”

            Iruka obeyed willingly, sliding out slowly, and then back in quicker, making sure to hit his lover’s prostate on every thrust. Kakashi’s nails began to dig little crescents into the tan man’s skin as he moaned louder and louder, the only thing louder in the room, the bang of their headboard on the wall.

            As Iruka’s thrusts became more erratic, he slid a hand between them and jerked Kakashi off in time to the movement of his hips. Both of Kakashi’s legs wound tightly around Iruka’s back and the filthy litany pouring out of the Copy-nin’s mouth (always been a potty mouth), interspersed with the occasion, ‘More,’ ‘Harder,’ and ‘Yeah, fuck, yeah,’ only spurred his lover on until finally, Kakashi fell over the edge with a sloppy kiss, his lover tumbling right after him.

            As they lay there, covered in sticky come and cooling sweat, Iruka spoke. “We need to talk.”

 

**A. N. As promised, smut. Not great smut, but it was his first time bottoming, so maybe a bit more real than usual fantasy porn. Anyhow, I figured I’d leave the big talk till next time, as I had promised smut for this update. C U soon!! - Niecey**


	24. I’ve Been Told No Before . . . . But That Doesn’t Mean Much

**Chapter 24: I’ve Been Told No Before . . . . But That Doesn’t Mean Much**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it—oh forget it—I have no more quick quips right now, I just don’t own any of it and I wish I did but I don’t and I hope no one sues me because I’m legit broke.**

** This might seem weird, and it is a totally made up date just because I needed a date to put things into perspective for this chapter, but let’s say it is sometime in the winter (as the triplets were born a month-ish earlier than Iruka (so mid-April) and they’re supposed to be just over two and a half. How about mid December, the thirteenth? Ok? Ok. Good. On with it, then (this will make sense later). Also. . . . . since the winter solstice is the 21st of December here in North America and Japan is in the Southern Hemisphere, I think it’s the summer solstice there-ish? **

            He was never going back. Grinning contentedly at the ceiling, Kakashi decided he’d never be able to go back to mission sex. There was no comparison to the real thing, really, and if they really needed it done for a mission, then Tsunade could go and find someone else.

            They hadn’t actually had that talk that Iruka mentioned he wanted—hell they had barely stopped to eat the breakfast that had needed to be reheated, not that the Copy-nin was complaining—no, quite the opposite, in fact—he’d prefer if they never left the bed, actually. Well, maybe to spend time with the kids, but other than that . . . . he really saw no other good reason. As he lay there, on his back, one knee propped up, Iruka asleep with Kakashi’s arm around him, back pressed against the pale man’s side, almost half on top of him, he thought back to his life a week ago. He had a pretty good idea what Iruka wanted to discuss; the problem was, he had no idea what to say. He knew he wanted to stay, he knew that he’d stay with Iruka for as long as he’d have him—that he’d love to help him raise his kids as his own (and it still scared hm, but he wanted it more than he ever thought he would) – but that didn’t change the fact that Iruka had been lucky no one had caught him staying in contact with his brother, and he was even more damn lucky that he’d managed to adopt Naruto right out from under the council’s nose (he laughed as he thought back to every dirty look he’d caught the elders send his chuunin in the last –nearly—three years). Which meant that they were definitely keeping an eye on him and they were not going to be able to hide the fact that he’d moved back in with the Uminos—it was a miracle they hadn’t noticed already and it had only been just over a week. What the fuck were they supposed to do? In reality, Kakashi would love nothing more than to propose to his chuunin as soon as he woke up (it seemed—to his embarrassment—that once his walls crumbled, it was like he was no longer capable of keeping back the deluge of sappy . . . . ugh, garrotte him now)—but the fact was, the council had it out for the brunet now _and_ they also still had it out for Kakashi himself (since it had been Iruka that had adopted their blond, it wouldn’t look like Kakashi was favouring his sensei’s son—but whether or not it was less suspicious, the council wouldn’t want the two men to get what they wanted simply on ‘principal’ –read: moral corruption, *cough, cough,* --at this point(ok, first of all, side note in a second set of parentheses? I know- this is some fourth wall level shit—Wade did you break into my computer again?!— _but_ . . . . back to it)—and even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud to anyone (well, maybe Iruka), he was kind of glad for that now)) so happily skipping down the aisle in Konoha was _not_ an option. Kakashi blew out a hard breath in frustration, then turned towards his brunet, snaking his other arm around him and rubbing light, ticklish little circles on his opposite forearm.

            Iruka woke up frowning slightly, shaking his arm. As he fully came to, he looked around to see his silver-haired goofball eye-smiling at him. Now that he could see his whole face, Iruka immediately recognised his lover’s ‘phony’ face.

            “What’s wrong?”

            Kakashi sighed. Iruka turned in his arms to face him. “You said you wanted to talk.”

            Iruka smiled indulgently. “Well, yeah. But that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad thing.” He frowned questioningly.

            “But I know what you want to talk about.”

            “Ookaay?”

            Kakashi sighed. He flopped backwards and crossed his arms over his bare chest. “They’re not going to leave us alone.”

            Iruka pulled a face.

            Kakashi continued to stare resolutely at the ceiling, refusing to look at his lover. Iruka sighed and sat up to straddle him, giving the other man no other option than to look at him.

            “No offence to their rather inflated view of themselves; but when, exactly, oh, my dear one, have I ever actually let them decide anything for me?”

            Kakashi pouted petulantly. Iruka smiled fondly, barely repressing a chuckle at how akin to one of his pre-genin Kakashi looked at the moment.

            Iruka stood up. “All right, moping beauty.” He pulled on a t-shirt and pair of boxers, tossing Kakashi his dressing gown, “Get dressed.”

            “I don’t want to.”

            Iruka came up beside the bed and peered down into Kakashi’s face. “I didn’t ask.”

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

            Iruka smiled to himself into his teacup when, ten minutes later, Kakashi petulantly dawdled his way downstairs and onto the sofa beside him, picking up the teacup Iruka had brought him and curling up with one of the large pillows on his lap. He let them sit in silence for a while before he pushed a piece of paper over to the other nin.

            “What is this?”

            “Just a list.”

            “A list of _what_ , Ruka?”

            “Read it.”

            Kakashi narrowed his visible eye in mock suspicion, but perused the paper nonetheless.

            “I don’t get it.”

            Iruka smiled indulgently. “That first date on the page?”

            Kakashi nodded and slid his eye up to the top of the list of dates.

“When Shisui’s mother died, they tried to break up our friendship. Didn’t want the Uchihas too friendly with anyone, since they didn’t trust them. I was friends with him until the day he died—no, Shisui is still and always will be my brother. Nothing they said or did ever changed that, only made me resent them. ”

Kakashi cocked his head in puzzlement. “And?”

            “The next one is the first time I escaped the orphanage.”

            Kakashi pulled his pillow closer to himself and settled in to listen.

            “ _They_ wanted to keep me there. I thought I’d do fine on my own. I made it two months before getting caught, and the only reason I did was because I showed back up to school for an exam I didn’t want to miss after the mid-year break.”

            Iruka replaced his teacup on the table and pulled the list out of his lover’s hands, glancing over it nostalgically.

            “The date Itachi left. I masqueraded as him to give him time to escape. Even the council never figured out I’d pulled that one over on them because Sandaime let me go.”

            Kakashi set his teacup down as well and pulled the list back to himself. He pointed to the next date.

            “The day I signed the summoning scroll so I could contact Itachi even though he was a nukenin and it was forbidden by the council to have any contact with him. We wrote every week until the triplets were born and we even visited on our birthdays.”

            Iruka picked up a pen he had on the table and fiddled with it. “The date they wanted me fired for that first mission we had together. Sandaime was disappointed with how it turned out, but he didn’t let them fire me. I started those teaching courses via correspondence that I told you about. Became the best damn teacher at the Academy. And now, I’m the headmaster—and an ANBU.”

            Iruka pulled one of Kakashi’s slim hands into his own huskier ones. “See, what I mean is, is that every time they tell me that I can’t have something, I just want it even _more_ than I did before. So I go out and I get it, and the elders can just be fucking damned to hell.”

            “The date Kaminari and the triplets came to Konoha. The date I Naruto-napped our blond and kept him. The date you got to finally meet Naruto as you, because I asked for you to stay with us. The date I got it in the back from a man I thought was my friend—but who only wanted to hurt my son because the council thought it more important to hide his history from him and make him a pariah. You know, even he has a claim to that date as well—I mean, how many other twelve-year olds can claim they’ve learned a forbidden jutsu right under their shinobi council’s nose? In one night?”

            They both chuckled at that and Kakashi flipped his hand to grasp Iruka’s back.

            “The date my brother’s brother left, but . . . . the same one that Naruto proved the whole council wrong by being a better person than any villager has ever given him credit for.”

            Iruka placed the pen in Kakashi’s hand. “If you’ll have me, Kakashi, I’d like to marry you. I mean, in all honestly, I’d like to do it the old-fashioned way—proper dates, a formal wedding—but if we get what we want in the end, I’ll take it how I can. And if you pick the date, I have a plan to make it happen.”

            Kakashi pouted.

            “What’s wrong?”

            The Copy-nin frowned petulantly. “I was going to ask you first! I thought of it this morning and everything, and now you’re not going to believe me because you asked first!” He crossed his arms and slumped with a sigh.

            Iruka chuckled. “Seriously, love? How about being happy because we’re obviously, ahem, *finally* on the same page?”

            Kakashi pouted some more, but pulled the scroll over to himself, making sure Iruka couldn’t see what he was writing. He would have liked to write tomorrow’s date, but knew that was unrealistic. He had no idea yet what Iruka’s plan was—but he also didn’t want to wait too long because then they ran a higher risk of getting caught and having a harder time. He put the pen back on the table and sat back in the cushions as Iruka pulled the scroll back into his own lap.

            He smiled as he looked at what was going to be their wedding date. December 21st, the summer solstice. He sighed in contentment. Perfect.

Iruka rolled the list back up and sealed it in a protected scroll, hiding it on a shelf amongst archived school scrolls. He pulled the man who was now his fiancé up by the hand, grinning, and led him back to the bedroom. They only had a few hours before Shikamaru brought the kids home, but that meant that they had a few hours before the kids got home.

 

A. N. Sorry it's a short one, I just wanted to make up some speed for being gone so long. More to come this weekend!


	25. The Run Around

**Chapter 25: The Run Around**

**N.B. So hey again- a reader pointed out to me that I am a dumbass (no- they were way nicer about it, lol) because Japan is in the Northern Hemisphere- so even if it said last time that they are getting married on the Summer Solstice, I’m sorry, but it is actually the Winter Solstice so thanks for pointing it out and I’m sorry for the stupid mistake!! :)**

            Kakashi had a job to do. Two of them, in fact. One had been assigned to him by his now-fiancé, otherwise known as the Pony-Tailed Tyrant of Konoha Academy (he loved him, really, he did, but sometimes the brunet was sooooo bossy) and the other, he felt was an honour-bound duty—but the fact was, he wasn’t looking forward to either of them. The first, he was scared as hell that it might go sideways, since he had so much on the line. The second one, though—that had even more potential to go awry, especially since it would be so unexpected. He hoped it would be a welcome surprise instead of something to be rebuffed.

            He also had a finite amount of time to get these things done. However, strong as he was, fast as he was, skilled in combat as he was, he was just not a ‘man with a plan,’ as Iruka always seemed to be. After they had decided to get married (in a week and one day), Kakashi had immediately been told by his fiancé to tell their blond exactly who Hound was—easier said than done. Iruka had gotten the boy and the perverted toad sage’s last location from his crow, Burakku, who had been keeping loose tabs on them for the brunet. Only, once Kakashi had picked up a mission nearby and gotten to the small village, the pair had already moved on. The fastest way to get to them now was through this blasted swamp and he just hoped he’d make it before sundown, because if he didn’t, then the mosquitoes would be hell.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

            Iruka had a plan. A pretty good one at that, if he did say so himself. He had already sent his silver-haired goofball to track down and talk to their boy, and give his perverted old Godfather a scroll with the message of where and when to meet them and a warning that the toad had better damn-well make sure his son was there, or fucking else. He had put in a mission request (as someone else, obviously) that specifically asked for the ANBU team of Crow, Turtle and Hound to ‘guard’ an important wedding (he thought the irony was amusing). He had also submitted a separate request for Nari-chan’s old genin team, plus their captain—Genma—and the newly minted chuunin, Shikamaru, to escort three children from Konoha to their father in the same coastal town where the other mission would be. In reality, it was his and Kakashi’s wedding, but they were doing it out of town and by the time the council figured it out, it’d be too late already to stop or undo it, and he’d push the paperwork quietly through in Konoha on one of his own mission desk shifts (he knew Tsunade, despite the councils, was sympathetic to their family, especially since her favourite shinobi ever just happened to be his pre-teen son). Additionally, since shinobi had such hard lives, there was a nifty little check-box on the marriage licence form to legally adopt a partner’s children—you could always leave it unchecked if the new partner did not want to be their step-children’s legal guardian, but it was there in case they didn’t want to wait to submit formal adoption papers (which took longer, it was—morbidly enough—in case the first parent died on duty, then his or her children would automatically be recognized as his or her spouse’s children)—but in their case, it would just help by not drawing attention to the fact that Kakashi was effectively applying to be the adopted father of all of Iruka’s children—including Naruto—which the council would have a fucking conniption fit over. So hopefully, that would hide it long enough that Tsunade could sign personally and then no matter what the council said, it would be done already and they wouldn’t have any legal recourse to undo it at that point. Iruka would have to create clones of the triplets to leave in Konoha while he got Anko and Shizune to babysit, but it also meant that they have some of their family with them on their special day (not everyone, but he thought it’d be too suspicious if he requested any more missions to the same village. Once it was done, they could renew their vows or something for an anniversary when their boy was back in town). Iruka had taken a mission himself that would send him there for few days prior, and that’s when he would choose their formal wear, book the hotel, etcetera and order whatever they’d need. He had also put in a request for the previously well-known ANBU team of Hound and Crow, to leave the day after the day they would get back to Konoha—it was supposed to be a scroll-retrieval mission, as a very short honeymoon for himself and Kakashi. All in all, it looked like a solid, if not slightly complicated plan. Now he just had to keep the jitters at bay before setting it all into motion. He hoped Kakashi found Naruto quickly so he wouldn’t make his mission look too suspiciously long. Tsunade may cover for them, but the council already had them under microscopes at all times.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

            By mid-afternoon, Kakashi had made it to the next small town and found out that there was a ‘white-haired hermit’ that lived in the caves nearby, which he took to mean that Jiraiya often stayed there on his travels, but was only seen occasionally. He wanted to get washed up before going to face Naruto, but he decided he needed to make sure he got there on time instead—talking to his boy at all was the priority right now, not what he looked or smelled like and he was running out of time if he still intended to pass this extra time off as just a snag his real mission had hit.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

            It was almost dark, evening, when Naruto felt it. He had been setting up in the cave, Pervy-sage outside tending the fire, when he felt a familiar chakra approach (Jiraiya had recently taught him how to distinguish between chakras, and now that he knew how, he felt that this one was very familiar for some reason). He got up and crept to the mouth of the cage, peering out into the semi-darkness to try and assess what was going on. Out in the clearing, he saw a masked ANBU from Konoha approach his sensei. The other nin flared his chakra in what Naruto now recognised at the universal Konoha-nin ‘peaceful approach’ pattern and relaxed minutely. (Just because they knew it, didn’t mean they were necessarily peaceful.) Then he caught sight of silver-gray spikes and realised why the chakra must be familiar. Hound! He’d known him since early childhood; as far back as he could remember, anyways. He crept forward even more and strained to listen. Hound handed a sealed scroll over the Pervy-sage, then turned to look at the cave. Naruto tried to shrink back so they wouldn’t realise he’d been trying to eavesdrop, but he knew from Hound’s posture that he knew the blond was there. Then, the Hound seemed to tense for a second, before forcing himself to relax and walk towards the cave.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

            Kakashi was glad Naruto couldn’t read his facial expression as he spotted the boy at the entrance to the cave, otherwise, he might know how nervous the man was. He took a steadying breath and walked purposefully towards the cave. When he got there, Naruto was pretending to look busy tidying up the bedrolls in the back corner of the room. Kakashi chuckled lowly.

            “Hello, Naruto.”

            The blond dropped his pillow. “Hi, Hound.” He didn’t turn around.

            “Do you mind coming to speak with me for a few minutes?” As the young genin finally faced him, Kakashi inclined his mask towards a long, flat-ish boulder that could pass as a bench. Naruto came over and sat on it, but to the blond’s surprise, Hound didn’t join him, instead kneeling on the ground in front of him. The jinchuuriki fiddled with his hands.

            “I have something very important to tell you . . . . “ The blond glanced up into Hound’s mask. “And, I think you might be a little angry with me.”

            Naruto cocked his head to the side.

            He briefly wondered what could be so serious that Hound would think he’d be angry with him. Honestly, unless he had been hiding the fact that he was his real dad or something and he’d chosen to give him up, well . . . . Naruto couldn’t think of anything that would make him mad at his oldest friend and greatest protector.

            The blond couldn’t see it, but Kakashi bit his lip. The blond did, however, hear him sigh. “I know you can keep a secret, Naruto . . . . I know because I know you and your Touchan and sometimes Shika-kun write to each other and no one else knows. So, I’m going to tell you a story, but I need you to keep it secret, okay?”

            Naruto nodded. He startled when Hound pulled his hands into his own larger ones and held them there. Kakashi rubbed circles into the blond’s wrists, stalling for time. Iruka had asked him to tell Naruto who he really was, but the brunet didn’t know his fiancé was planning on telling their blond this much yet. But Iruka hadn’t known Naruto’s biological parents when he adopted him, only figured it out later and Kakashi _did_ , so he thought he should tell him. He started with, “A long time ago, I knew your parents.”

            Blue eyes snapped to attention, hands now holding eagerly onto the Hound’s. He answered both timidly and with a measure of excitement, “You did?”

            The masked nin nodded. “I did. That’s why I watched over you. I was there the night you were born, you know. I loved your mom and your dad, as if they were my own family. Your dad was like my big brother, and sometimes even like a dad after my own died. And everyone loved your mom.” Kakashi smiled sadly beneath his mask. “It was hard not to.”

            Kakashi bit his lip again. “Before I tell you this story, I’d like to show you who I am. And tell you why I want you to know who I am after all this time.”

            Naruto gasped. “You do?”

            “I also want you to know, Naruto, that I love you very much. I always have and I always will and this story is yours by right and I will still tell it to you if you’ll hear it whether or not you’re mad at me or even want anything to do with me ever again,” he added under his breath as Naruto nodded and let go of his hands as Kakashi pulled them back to grasp his mask, “though your Touchan thinks you’ll be happy about this, so I hope he’s right. And . . . . here goes nothing.”

            Blue eyes widened in shock as recognition dawned on the blond’s face. “Kakashi-sensei?”

            The Copy-nin nodded.

            “But. . . . if it was you, why—“

            Kakashi interrupted him gently. “I never told you before because technically, there is an actual law in Konoha that forbids people from telling you who your parents are. I have never liked the law, but I have been afraid enough to follow it. I’m hoping our relationship is going to change shortly, and I wanted to make sure we started out with the truth and I wanted you to know how much I care about you—not only because I loved your biological parents, but also because of the young man I have watched you grow into today.”

            Naruto sighed. “Like the law that Mizuki-bastard broke when he attacked me and Touchan and told me I’m a Jinchuuriki?”

            Kakashi nodded. “Exactly the same.”

            “Okay, I get that then. But how come you left us last year then?”

            Kakashi scrubbed his face tiredly. “Because I was afraid of your Touchan.”

            Naruto regarded him in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You’re the Copy-nin!”

            Kakashi chuckled. “Yes, I’m aware of that. But, I haven’t had a family in a long time and that’s actually also the reason I’m telling you who I am now. I wasn’t afraid of your Touchan like an enemy nin. I was afraid because I was falling in love with him. He asked me to tell you I was Hound because your Touchan asked me to marry him.” He added out the side of his mouth petulantly, “Even though I thought of it _first_.”

            Kakashi continued, “He knew I was Hound since I came to stay with you guys, but I didn’t know he knew that and now he wants you to know, because you loved Hound and he thought you’d be glad to know that Hound is also someone who loves you—whether I wear the mask or not. Particularly because if I marry your Touchan, we will have the same family.”

            It was quiet for a long time, Kakashi a bit nervous and the blond seemingly lost in his thoughts, then, “I love Hound.”

            “And I have always loved you, Naruto.” Kakashi turned to him with a sincere eye-smile.

            The blond shook his head. “No, you said, ‘loved,’ like I stopped or something. But I didn’t. I still love Hound, even if he is my perverted Jounin-sensei.” The blond grinned.

            Kakashi wrapped an arm around the slim shoulders and pulled his boy into his side. “I am very glad to hear you say that. I’m also supposed to ask your permission to adopt you, even though Iruka already thinks you’ll say yes.”

            The blond looked up at his sensei through wide, incredulous eyes again. “You want to adopt me too?” he breathed out.

            Kakashi hugged him closer. “If the council had allowed it, I’d have taken you the day your parents died.” He clenched his free fist beside himself as he continued, “I’m glad now that Iruka adopted you, even if I was jealous when he did. Because now you will get to have two dads that love you very much if you’ll have me and I got to meet your Touchan and your siblings and your aunt, which might never have happened if I took you as a baby. Even though you went through a lot in the orphanage and the village before your Touchan got to you, I think that’s a good ending anyways, don’t you? Not a fair trade—I would have taken all your pain away if I could, but. . . . we’re here now and because the council was so awful and kept you from me, we’ll have an even bigger, better family than it would have been than just the two of us alone.”

            When Kakashi peered down into the blond’s face, he could see tears forming in the corner of his eyes. The blond nodded hard. His boy hugged him almost painfully tight around the middle and hid his face in the jounin’s vest as Kakashi patted his back soothingly. It seemed like they sat there forever like that. When Naruto finally peeked out, he was smiling tentatively as he rubbed his eyes. “So . . . . do I get to see your face then?”

            Kakashi laughed. A full, from-deep-in-his-belly laugh. “I suppose you would want that, wouldn’t you?”

            Naruto nodded. Kakashi hmm’d non-committally, staying quiet until Naruto almost thought he wouldn’t answer, then, “Think you can keep that a secret too?”

            The blond scoffed. “Of course.”

            Kakashi smiled and brought one gloved hand up to the edge of his mask, slipping a finger under to pull it down, then he thought better of it, turned to Naruto and asked, “Or would you like to do the honours?”

            The blond grinned widely, then stood up in front of the Copy-nin. He reached up both small hands to hold onto the edges of his sensei’s mask—or soon to be stepfather, or just another father, he supposed; really it wouldn’t be hard to think of him as just another dad like his Touchan, especially now that he knew he was really Hound—then paused. “Hey, Hound? What should I call you then? If I already call Touchan Touchan? Most of my friends don’t have to worry about that because they have only have one dad and a mom. If I have two dads. . . .”

            Kakashi smiled under his mask. He had thought about it. He didn’t want to be like his father, and only be known as the super-formal and cold ‘Otosama,’ but if his friends ever got wind he was called something like the informal, gooey ‘papa,’ or the out-dated, ‘chichi,’ he’d never hear the end of it, so he settled on something similar to Iruka’s own ‘Touchan.’ “How about Tousan? Then it can be a little different from Touchan, so we all know who you’re talking to, but not too different?”

            Naruto grinned brightly. “Yeah, I like that.”

            “All right, so do I.”

            Naruto took a deep breath, then slowly pulled Kakashi’s mask down. He stared in wonder as he let his hands roam his new Tousan’s face. Kakashi sat still and tried not to fidget. There was no way Naruto would know the story of his father, much less see him in his face, but he almost had to sit on his hands to stop from pulling the smaller ones away from his face. After a few moments, Naruto smiled and pulled his hands back, then scuffed the dirt with one toe. He mumbled under his breath, “Thanks.”

            Kakashi smiled, pulling his mask back up slowly. “We’re going to be family now. But—“

            Naruto grinned. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell stuck up Sasuke-teme or Sakura-chan what you look like. Maybe that I’ve seen your face first though, if that’s okay?”

            Kakashi grinned under the fabric. “That’s all right to tell people, but not that you’ve seen it _first_ —but that you’re one of the _only_ ones to see it.” The Copy-nin patted the stone beside him. “Now how about that story I promised you?”

            “Okay,” the blond chirped happily, then curled up into Kakashi’s side, tucked up under his arm. “But, how come you wear a mask, anyways? How come only we get to see you?”

            Kakashi gave the blond a little squeeze. “That’s a story for another time. I’ll tell you one day, when you’re older, but for today, I want to tell you one about your biological parents. About how I met them and the day you were born. I have a lot of other stories about them, and I’ll tell you more when you come back home, but for today, just one will have to do. It started when I graduated the Academy. That’s when I met my own Jounin-sensei . . . .”

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

            After leaving Naruto, with a promise to see him soon at his parents’ secret wedding, Kakashi had booked it back to Konoha and gave his report. He then immediately headed home to wash up, say hello and then went over to the grove of trees Iruka would often visit in the training grounds. He had already spoken to Iruka’s own Burakku, in the grove of trees in their yard, asking how best to approach his intended target. As he neared the older and larger murder of crows, he inclined his head in a respectful nod and politely asked for Makkuro, the crow-equivalent of their clan head.

            As a crow with an implanted Sharingan eye glided out of the forest to land on one of the nearby trees, he spoke to Kakashi in a raspy, gravelly voice.

            “What do you seek, shinobi? If it is harm, then you have come to the wrong place.”

            “No, Makkuro-san. I intend no harm to your family. I request only an audience with your summoner.”

            The bird tilted his head in question.

            “I am the betrothed of your shinobi’s brother, Umino Iruka. I intend to ask his brother’s blessings, as it were.” His intent was slightly different, though not by much, so he didn’t feel too bad.

            Makkuro looked thoughtful. “How do I know you speak the truth, shinobi? Not many know of the deep connection between my fledglings. And those who suspect already would most likely only do them harm.”

            Kakashi shuffled around in his pocket, then produced a leaf from his vest pocket. “I was given this by one of your brothers, Burakku, clan chieftain of Iruka’s murder. He told me it comes from the summoning plane and can only be obtained there.” Burakku had told the Copy-nin that since even summoners had hardly ever made it into the plane, and certainly didn’t know their way around, and it would be difficult to force a summons to get a token from the plane even if an enemy knew to do so would be helpful, that the fact that he had it at all would most likely convince Makkuro that it was indeed a token from his brethren and that the silver-haired shinobi was telling the truth.

            Makkuro inclined his head minutely, then flicked a wing towards one of the other crows. The other disappeared in a puff of smoke.

            “Now,” intoned the bird, “we wait.”

            Kakashi nodded and took a seat at the base of one of the trees. He had no idea how long it would take for the summon to find Itachi, nor how long their conversation would run, or even if Itachi would accept the request. His ninken didn’t often pop themselves over to the human plane on their own, as most summons preferred the summoning plane and when Bisuke would do it occasionally (to raid Kakashi’s fridge, usually—he was the youngest and the newest to training), he would only ever go to Kakashi’s apartment, so the nin had never though to ask any of them how long it would take them to locate him without him summoning them directly to himself.

            It was at least an hour later when the summon returned in a second puff of smoke and whispered to Makkuro. Makkuro turned to Kakashi. “Master Itachi has heard your request and accepts. He told my subordinate here to ask me to teach you this fuinjutsu. I know his intent. Iruka has used the technique once before. You will need to use the seal to bind yourself to me temporarily.” And then, “If you please, activate your eye.” The crow looked into the Sharingan with Shisui’s implanted eye and gave Kakashi the memory of Iruka inventing the seal the day the triplets were born.

 

-           -           -           -           -           -           -           -           -           -           -           -           -

 

  1. N. I wanted to make Naruto suspect who Kakashi really was, to high-light how close they were and how Naruto isn’t really the idiot everyone seems to think he is—but if Bingo-Book nins couldn’t put two and two together (despite the very distinctive hair), I thought that might be just a little too much of a stretch. So, this turned out a bit different than I had planned, but still ok I think.




	26. Secrets on Top of Our Secrets

**Chapter 26: Secrets on Top of Our Secrets**

            “I’m doing this why, again?” Kakashi dipped his brush in the swirling black ink.

            “Do you or do you not wish to meet with Master Itachi?”

            Kakashi sighed. “Well, yes. Of course, that’s what I asked for. I just don’t understand why—“

            “Master Iruka used this technique when he needed to get to Master Itachi right away, in an emergency situation. He modified an existing fuinjutsu to attach himself to me so that his brother might pull him out of the summoning plane at a moment’s notice. Do not worry, shinobi of Konoha. Master Iruka made it safely both into and out of the plane at that time.”

            Kakashi gulped. “That’s the only time this has been done?” Kakashi trusted his brunet, but really—“You expect me to—“

            “Yes, Shinobi-san, and you must hurry. We only have a few more minutes before it is time.” The crow hopped around impatiently. “Do not worry. With the Sharingan, you will be able to imitate the original flawlessly.”

            Kakashi sighed and finished painting the seal. “I do hope you know what you’re talking about.”

            Makkuro—if it was possible for a beaked animal—seemed to be smiling. “Hold on to your shuriken, Shinobi-san.”

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

            Iruka had just finished booking onsen rooms for their entire party and was heading over to the local formal wear vendor. It would be nice, he decided, having to worry a lot less about money. Kakashi had already mentioned to him how he’d like both of them to hang up their ANBU masks, since they would have a combined income now. Additionally, if ever they outgrew their small house, Kakashi was willing to start selling off the Hatake compound properties—as they held nothing but awful memories anyways; he could take any heirlooms and personal items out before selling—and there was an inheritance he’d never touched before too. Iruka didn’t really want to give up the missions desk (it was boring—but it was how he heard all of the town gossip and had clearance to view almost any file in town) and he would never give up the Academy until he retired (he was actually trying to convince the silver-haired shinobi to be an exam proctor, or take another genin team, but his lover was a bit gun-shy given the results of his last team); but he was willing to cut back on his classes now that Nari-chan was gearing up to be a full chuunin-sensei and concentrate more on the Headmaster aspects of the job; which meant that, unless there was en emergency, he could work more often from home (particularly because he’d have Nari-chan’s eyes in the school anyhow).

            After sorting through racks of clothes, Iruka finally settled on a colour theme of navy blue, forest green and silver accents—very similar to Konohan official uniform colours (they may resent the council, but they loved their village—and then they could re-use the formal wear for festivals at home and on political missions—given their eldest son’s life ambition, they’d most likely have to attend many of those in the future . . . . it would actually be a stroke of luck if Naruto was elected before anyone found out who his siblings’ biological father was). They weren’t a traditional couple and didn’t want a traditional ceremony, so he needn’t pick up any flowers or other such nonsense, so once done, he headed over to a photography shop. He booked in a session for them, for wedding photos (an outdoor session, in front of the craggy cliffs; they were getting married on the beach—mostly for privacy’s sake, but the cliffs were both majestic and not as feminine as the beach itself was)—as well as one for the kids (because they grow so fast, and since they were at it already, why not—he was hoping for several shots in the trees, dappled with sunshine, green grass and fresh buds), and then a formal family session in the actual studio.

            He made one last stop, the post office—in a town as small as this, it doubled as the only government building, a satellite office of the Hokage Tower—to request someone legally allowed to perform binding marriages. When handed the list of three names, he was surprised to find the last name on the list—though Naruto would love the idea and it would give them even more clout against the council than just having Tsunade alone on their side—so decision made, he put in the preliminary application and headed home. His detour had only taken him one afternoon and if he pushed himself, he’d be back in Konoha with enough time to prepare his class plan for while he was gone, practice holding his henge of the triplets (it was much harder than an adult henge).

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

            Kakashi couldn’t help but compare it to a fight scene from a cheesy film or novel. He had popped out of the summoning plane when Itachi had pulled Makkuro through, and he only just managed not to stumble. He had landed lightly on his toes, and was now standing sideways, with his face turned to the younger man. They were a good distance away—across a grassy field and the wind was blowing their hair dramatically as they regarded each other in silence. Finally, Itachi’s hand fell away from the sword strapped at his hip.

            “You wished to speak to me, Hatake-san?” His voice was completely even.

            “When was the last time you spoke to your brother, Weasel?”

            Itachi, taken aback the Copy-nin had known who hid behind the weasel mask, and wary of the other for bringing up his brother, yanked his hand back towards the hilt of his sword, gripping it firmly. “I have not spoken to Sasuke since I left the village, Hatake-san,” Itachi intoned, slightly passive-aggressively.

            Kakashi laughed hollowly. “Not that one, little Weasel.” He pulled something from inside his vest and Itachi recognised it as an ANBU mask, though from this distance and angle, he couldn’t make out the animal it represented. “I mean you no harm. How about a secret for a secret?” The silver-haired nin tossed the mask in a graceful arc, and it landed in front of the raven-haired shinobi.

            Leery of taking his eyes off the other, Itachi glanced down quickly, only to almost gasp out loud in surprise at the Hound mask he saw lying in front of him.

            “Captain.” He acknowledged his former ANBU squad leader with an abbreviated nod. “To what do I owe the audience?”

            “I know you haven’t spoken to him in nearly three years, because my fiancé and I tell each other almost everything. We have learned the hard way that to have a healthy relationship, it is best not to keep secrets from each other—no matter what the council would prefer us to do.”

            Itachi regarded the other sceptically. “And what, pray tell, would he see in you?”

            Kakashi laughed again, a richer, truer sound this time. “Sometimes I wonder that myself.” He shrugged. “He doesn’t seek power or status and he would rather lose with his own cart than win on a borrowed one—so nothing to do with my clan or reputation. I suppose I’m rather good-looking, don’t you?”

            Itachi snorted quietly as the older man continued, “In general, he’s nicer than I am, so not that either. And as you know from our time in ANBU together, I am not particularly skilled in social graces. I suppose he finds my eccentricities endearing.”

            Itachi finally relented, “Yes. I suppose that does sound like him. So, why are you here?”

            “I should think that’s obvious.” Kakashi turned fully to face Itachi. “Iruka’s family immigrated to Konoha several generations ago—leaving the main branch of their clan in Mist. He has never had to deal with clan politics or niceties other than when a student’s parent gives him trouble. I am still a bot more traditional than he is, I suppose. You are the only other person he considers blood, other than his children and their aunt. I am here to ask for your blessings, as the eldest other than himself. I thought that you might also understand where I am coming fro ma bit more, as a former clan heir yourself.”

            “My brother doesn’t need my permission for anything.” Itachi squared his shoulders defiantly.

            Kakashi snorted. “He doesn’t need anyone’s permission for anything. That’s not what I’m asking for. I am asking for your blessing—not only because I intend to marry him, but also because I know where his children are from. They mean the world to him and I think it would mean a lot if he knew you supported us.”

            Kakashi could hear Itachi choke. The other didn’t speak for the longest time. Then, so softly he almost didn’t catch it, “They are well, then?”

            Kakashi took a chance and walked forward slowly, only stopping when he was directly in front of the other. “Did you have any doubts?”

            Itachi shook his head. “No. I trust my brother with my life. I support him in every decision he would make and if he thinks you are good for him, for all of them, then I would never question that. He knows this. This is why they are with him. Why you needn’t have asked for my blessings. He has my blessing in everything he chooses and we know each other well enough and love each other unconditionally enough that that is why he didn’t even think to ask me. I asked him not to contact me. It makes it harder to know what you are missing.”

            Kakashi placed one hand softly on the shorter shinobi’s shoulder. “But it would mean a lot to him to have your concrete approval, even if on an instinctive level he knows he has it already. And take it from someone who was idiotic enough to lose a family once. It truly is better to know than to not. Sometimes the memories of the love were the only things to sustain me on the lonely days.” The silver-haired shinobi pulled up his hite-ate and looked the other directly in the eyes. He played memories over—from his first time in the house, when the triplets were only small, to more recent ones Iruka hadn’t even realised he was recording, of him playing tag with them out in the backyard. When he finally deactivated his Sharingan and covered it up, he could feel the tears dropping onto his hand from the other shinobi. “I know you thought you were doing the right thing . . . . But I’m sure he would love to hear from you again. To share with you about his life, about their life. Think about it, please.”

            Itachi looked up into Kakashi’s eyes. “Thank you . . . . brother.” Then he was gone.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

            Kakashi sighed and looked around. He had been wandering around aimlessly for about half an hour after Itachi had left him—he had no clue where he’d been summoned too and wasn’t too keen on running all the way home. He supposed he should be happy that Itachi’s last words indicated he had accepted him, then, as a brother-in-law and stepfather to his children, but he almost couldn’t help being disappointed that their meeting had ended as it did. It just didn’t seem like it was over—there was no concrete conclusion. He scuffed his sandal on the dirt of the gravelly path as he finally spotted a small village up ahead. There were still a couple of days until they had to leave for ‘Mission: Wedding,’ as he’d dubbed Iruka’s operation, so he supposed he could afford one day off to rest overnight in the small village. He located a small inn and checked in for the night, then went to wander the vendor’s stalls. He found a set of kunai that he couldn’t help but buy for Kaminari-chan and her teammates—he knew that all three tough-as-nails young kunoichi would find it ironically amusing to carry such blatantly _pink_ weapons on their person. At the same stall, he found a set of very dull wooden play-kunai, which he bought for the triplets. He wandered past a jeweller’s stall, where he pouted a little (as active duty shinobi, Iruka had told him they shouldn’t wear wedding bands—and though he understood—really it wasn’t practical, even on a cord around one’s neck it was too easy to lose and for someone like him, so recognizable in the Bingo Books everywhere, well, probably not a good idea to advertise a family with something so obvious as a wedding band—he was still a little disappointed) and ran his hand longingly over one of the display cases.

            After picking out a few other gifts for his little family (Kakashi sometimes preferred the kitschy wares of out-post towns over the more commercial things available in the larger Konohan market), he stopped by a teashop to pick up something to eat then headed back to his hotel room for the evening.

            When he got there, Kakashi instinctively knew someone had been in the room. From the doorway, nothing appeared touched, but he could sense the minute tendrils of chakra that had been used to sneak in the window. He placed the bags with his purchases in the to the side and crept into the room at attention.

            “I mean you no harm.”

            Kakashi whirled to face the man in front of the closet. He relaxed, though only a fraction. “How do I know you’re really you?”

            Hound’s mask dropped to the ground in front of his feet.

            Kakashi harrumphed. “Yeah, thanks. I could have gotten in trouble for that going missing, you know.”

            “I’m sorry. I just needed some time to . . . . process everything.”

            Kakashi nodded and picked up the mask, dusting it off and tossing it on the bed.

            “Besides, having something of yours made it easier for Makkuro to track and locate you.”

            Kakashi nodded again.

            “I have heard what has become of my other brother. That he searches for me, thirsts for revenge.”

            Kakashi nodded again, warily this time.

            “He was the second-born, so he knows not of this. But in the Uchiha compound, deep in the bowels of the underground rooms, there is a vault. I do not think he will be any good for the clan, but since our bloodline has obviously continued through me, he doesn’t need to be. After Shisui died, Iruka and I sought something to tie us together more concretely, more recognizably than just our love and friendship. We came across an old—but still legal and chakrically-binding brotherhood seal.” Itachi pulled his shirt down, then mumbled an incantation and an eight-point seal, swirling with blue and violet chakra, appeared on his chest above his heart. “As a clan head yourself, you know that usually the elders wish the patriarch or matriarch of the clan to produce both an heir; and a spare . . . . just in case. A long time ago, however, when birth and infant mortality rates were not as good, some clan heirs would take the third child of a similar clan as their blood-brother or sister—so that he or she may marry one of the branch members and produce children of the same line and there was also the built-in protection of the alliance of the other clan. Both Iruka and I used our chakra to build and fill the seals—and even though we never told the council; as I was the clan heir it is still a legally-binding brotherhood ritual.”

            Kakashi frowned. “Meaning . . . . ”

            “Meaning that Iruka can assume the mantle of clan head in my absence, just the same as a Queen-mother can rule in her son’s stead until he can ascend to the throne himself; because he is my blood-bonded brother and legal parent of the triplets. Now that he has you, it is a feasible option for us as you can instruct him in the clan politics that a nukenin such as myself could not. I ask that you do this quietly, as if the council gets wind of it happening under their noses, they will not be happy and will try to prevent it at all costs. As I said, in the basement, you will find the vault. In the vault, you will find all of the legal documents we need to make the transfer. I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought Sasuke could be fit to lead—or if I knew the council wouldn’t try to confiscate the Uchiha legacy as soon as Sasuke defects, which I’m sure he will—and kill me too, thereby removing any barriers to the council getting their hands on family jutsus and heirlooms. It is imperative that Tsunade-hime approves and is aware of the transfer before Sasuke defects and I die. It would also be wise if you had a select few whom you trust, but who are not directly part of our family to be aware of the situation, in case the council tries to deny it when they try to take over. It would be better for the children if they never had to carry this burden, but with you and Iruka behind them—I’m sure they can handle anything together. We are an old clan, and there is also a ritual I would like to teach Iruka—so that a seal similar to our brother bond will appear on him if the other clan heads in our village check the validity of leadership when the council denies it. As the other old clans in our village, they will recognise it as being binding. Be ready at any time. I will appear to make it happen soon.”

            Kakashi sighed and chuckled lowly. Itachi cocked his head at him questioningly. “It’s just that . . . . for a family that hides no secrets from each other, we sure as hell have a lot of secrets form everyone else.”

            Even Itachi could smile at that. “Hn. It seems we do. Though, if the council didn’t meddle so in everyone’s personal business, we wouldn’t need to.”

            Kakashi nodded. He reached out to lay a hand on the other man’s forearm before he disappeared again. “I truly hope that one day, this will all be irrelevant. I hope . . . . for your sake, your brother’s and our children’s, that one day, you can come home.”

            They regarded each other in silence for a few minutes. Finally, the dark-haired man spoke.

            “If only we lived in a world where I could still believe in wishes.” He patted the other on the shoulder and disappeared again in a puff of smoke.

                        Kakashi sank down heavily on the bed. He had enough of being devastated and feeling helpless as a shinobi tool at the mercy of his village council’s whims. The system needed to change for the better. Long after nightfall, he still hadn’t moved, though he spoke into the darkness before curling up to sleep, “Then I will believe for all of us.”


	27. A Little Oasis

**Chapter 27: A Little Oasis**

**A.N. I didn’t really want to make Iruka a clan head, as I think a position like that would make him miserable—however, I did need an excuse to re-introduce Itachi, so Iruka would have a chance to talk some sense into him about the whole ‘no contact’ thing. I hope no one interprets it as giving him too much power . . . . but I’m hopefully going to be able to pull it off as only like a figurehead thing—(like how the British monarchy is Canada’s sovereign too, only doesn’t really hold much power (or traditionally, just doesn’t use it); or like a corporation head who is only the ‘face’ of a company, and not much else) I envision Kakashi taking care of most of it as he was trained from a young age to deal with that and mentoring one of the triplets (most likely Minku because she is the most outgoing or Kawa because she is the most calm—and then Konoha would finally have another female clan head like Tsume). I would also like to point out that originally, I had wanted to make this a ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ story, where there are multiple optional outcomes of many of the major turning point/decisions and this would have set the groundwork for the ‘Itachi comes home with amnesia and blind after he survives Sasuke’s attack’ options (I changed it because that was just too sad to think about; at least in my opinion, I know not everyone will agree, but better dead than broken, suffering and not recognising your own family), but that will probably not happen—but all this to say that while it seems convoluted, it did have an intent in the original storyline and when the story evolved, I just couldn’t seem to find a different option without it to still get to the point where I eventually want this to go.**

            Iruka was as happy as he ever thought he could be. It was December 20th and they were en route to their little oasis—the coastal town where they would finally be married after several years of dancing around each other. Kakashi had also come home the other day with news that he had sought out Itachi’s blessings for becoming a part of the family (Iruka was equal parts annoyed at the out-dated-ness of it and fond exasperation because it was just so Kakashi and happiness because the silver-haired shinobi had considered his children’s biological father’s opinion important enough to risk facing the nukenin in unknown territory), and had informed the brunet that they may even get a visit from his absent brother soon. After nearly three years of Itachi’s forced no contact rule, Iruka was chomping at the bit to see him again and perhaps smack some sense into the younger nin (or glomp him as soon as he saw him—the jury was still out on that particular reunion reaction).

            As it took longer to travel with children, Genma’s group had already left two days previous and were most likely already waiting for them at the inn. He, Gai and Kakashi would camp for the night soon, then arrive in the late morning to get ready for an afternoon ceremony. He just hoped his son’s Godfather (who had the attention span of a horny gnat) would arrive with the blond on time as well. Although Kakashi intended for Gai to be his best man, they hadn’t put much stock into his ability to curb his enthusiasm, so they hadn’t asked ahead of time. Kakashi was going to do that tonight and they were fairly sure the answer would be yes. Iruka turned to peer at Turtle. That also meant that the Green Beast would know it was Iruka under the Crow mask (he was trustworthy, and a good friend, but not the quietest—so any future missions with the two of them would be _exuberant_ to say the least. _But_ . . . . since he and his soon-to-be-husband were planning on giving ANBU up, he supposed it didn’t make much of a difference in the long run).

            Kakashi signalled the other two and as one, they dropped from the trees to land in a small group on the edge of a dirt road.

            Hound pointed to an abandoned building nearby. “We make camp here.”

            Iruka nodded, quickly volunteering to gather firewood, to allow the other two time to talk.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

            As they set up bedrolls in the abandoned cottage and swept out the fireplace, Kakashi cleared his throat.

            “So, uh, Gai.”

            A turtle mask turned to him quietly as the other man put down the blanket he’d been holding.

            “I kind of, uh, have a favour to ask of you.”

            The Turtle nodded. “I am listening, my friend.”

            “Yeah, it’s kind of about that. You’re me friend, you know?”

            “Yes, we have been friends for a long while.”

            “Um, yeah. I know. But we both also know that I’m not the best at you know, expressing that.”

            Gai chuckled. “Yes, my friend, I know.”

            “But still, you and Tenzou are the only good friends I had left and we couldn’t ask for both of you, because, well, that would have been suspicious, so . . . . “

            If possible, the Turtle mask looked at him even blanklier than usual.

            Kakashi sighed. “I’m not explaining this very well.”

            Gai shook his head.

            “Do you remember what you said about Iruka and his family being my family too?”

            Gai nodded.

            “You know, actually, can we take our masks off for this? I need my mask off for this.” Kakashi dropped the Hound’s mask on a sturdy but worn wooden table and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

            Gai, though slower as he was a bit reluctant, dropped his Turtle mask on one of the cots.

“We’rekindofmakingitofficialbecauseIrukaaskedmetomarryhimandIsaidyesbutthecouncilcan’tknowsothisisafakemissionandIrukaisactuallyCrowandwouldyoumindmuchifyoucouldbemybestman?” Kakashi blew his breath out as Gai tried to puzzle that out. Kakashi could tell the second he’d pieced it together as Gai’s face lit up like a lighthouse and he threw his arms around the Copy-nin.

            “MY FRIEND! I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU! IT WOULD BE MY HONOUR! WHATVER YOU NEED, MY ESTEEMED RIVAL AND I AM GLAD YOU HAVE FINALLY FOUND HAPPINESS WITH YOUR ONE TRUE LOVE!” Kakashi smiled to himself, and instead of standing there awkwardly like he would have done only a year ago, he wrapped his arms around his friend too.

            “Thanks, Gai. That means a lot.” He patted the other man’s back.

            It was at that moment Iruka walked in with an armful of logs. “Oh, I see you told him then.”

            Gai let go of Kakashi immediately and launched himself at the younger nin. Iruka would deny it up and down later, but he actually ‘eeped’ and flinched as the Green Beast of Konoha descended upon him with a booming, “AND YOU, MY FAIR SENSEI! I AM SO HAPPY THAT YOU HAVE MADE MY ESTEEMED RIVAL AND BEST FRIEND SUCH A HAPPY MAN. I AM HONOURED TO SHARE THIS DAY WITH YOUR FAMILY!”

            Iruka gulped. “Thanks Gai.” He wriggled in the death grip. “Mind letting me go now?”

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

            Upon arriving at the designated inn at the coastal village, Jiraiya and Naruto were immediately accosted by the boy’s young aunt and her two former genin teammates. Jiraiya tried to slink off unnoticed, but the raven-haired teen grasped him once again.

            “And where do you think you’re going, hm?” She yanked his sleeve hard.

            He grinned winningly. “Well, I’ve delivered the boy for his father’s wedding, I’m just going to nip off for a quick—“

            “No, you aren’t.”

            The toad sage gaped at her. “What do you mean, I’m not?”

            She grinned evilly. “As a Sannin, you are highly ranked enough to perform legally binding marriages, or didn’t you know that? Who else did you think would be officiating? As Naruto’s Godfather, you are practically family anyways.” The young woman steered him down the main street, following after her nephew and teammates. She grinned again. “We need to get you all dolled up for this afternoon.”

            He gulped.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

            Genma loved Iruka, he did. He was his best friend, after all. His kids even called him ‘uncle Genma.’ But he drew the line at being dressed up by teenage girls. He batted away his former genin team’s hands as one of them reached for his hair.

“No. I draw the line at my hair. You girls are _not_ touching my hair!” He glanced sympathetically at the sannin in the other corner of the room. He wasn’t faring as well as Genma against the three kunoichi.

Naruto was already ready, though his deep-grey kimono was already coming loose from his navy blue hakama, and his forest-green haori was slightly askew. His aunt seemed quite put upon, trying to keep him still enough to brush his hair.

“Naruto-kun! Sit still, please!” She wrestled with him briefly, before throwing her hands up and giving up, instead going to dress the triplets.

Fuchikari matched his older brother to a tee, other than his darker hair and socked feet instead of tabi slippers. The girls each wore an embroidered kimono, Minku’s was navy blue with green flowers and Kawa’s was forest green with blue flowers. Both were secured with a silver obi. Like Fuchikari, they had socked feet instead of sandals. Nari-chan was trying to coax their straight black tresses into pleats with ribbons matching their obi braided in. Eventually, one of her teammates came over to help, leaving poor Jiraiya to tie all of his own knots. Genma sauntered over and offered the older man a hand.

Jiraiya smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I don’t often have occasion to dress up.”

“No problem, Oji-sannin, I do this all the time.”

“You do?” The grey-haired sage asked as he smoothed out his haori. As the officiant, he was in cream and red coloured robes, like the legendary ‘Red Threads of Fate.’

Smiling at him, Genma turned the older man to face the mirror. “Sure do, Oji-sannin. With a face like this and charm like mine, the Hokage sends me to the Daimyo’s court on missions all the time.” He turned sideways to appraise himself in the mirror. Unlike Naruto, he was dressed all in navy blue, with the exception of his kimono, which was deep gray. As the other best man, his counterpart, Gai, would be wearing all forest green; so they would each match their groom. Iruka’s kimono and hakama were navy blue, with his haori the same material as Minku’s kimono—his and Kakashi’s haori were embroidered to make them stand apart from the rest of the family and denote them as the guests of honour. Kakashi would be in forest green with a haori matching Kawa’s kimono.

            Meanwhile, the three kunoichi were taking turns getting ready. Naruto had been sent into one of the other rooms to make sure that Shikamaru was, in fact, getting ready and _not_ sleeping. Kaminari’s kimono matched the material of Minku and Iruka, while her obi and bow matched Kawa and Kakashi. As honoured guests but not family or the best men, Shikamaru, Chouchou and Shizuka had all been asked if they wanted to match or choose their own colours. Shikamaru had asked if he could wear the inverse of his best friend, except with a silver kimono instead of the deep grey. Iruka had been more than happy to oblige him, while Chouchou and Shizuka chose blues and greens to match as well, only in paler, pastel colours and with no embroidery.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - -

            As soon as they arrived, each of the three ANBU were whisked off by a different member of the former Team Genma. Chouchou (as Tenten’s cousin) was the one deemed most suitable to deal with her cousin’s jounin-sensei and so was tasked with trying to coax the enthusiastic man’s hair into _anything_ other than his typical bowl cut style. Kaminari obviously called dibs on her Iruka-nii-san, which left poor Shizuka trying to corral and dress a nerve-addled Copy-nin. (Genma felt sorry for his student and eventually helped her out.)

            They took a lot of photos before heading to the beach underneath the cliffs and the ceremony itself passed by rather quickly. It wasn’t until after many photos later that Naruto got bored.

            When everyone turned around at the sound of an awful ruckus, it was to the sight of a young brunet with wide eyes and a panicked look on his face—sat in the ocean in his formal wear—as he ratted out his best friend to his Touchan—afraid enough of his former sensei’s wrath to point at the blond and shout to Iruka—“He did it, not me!”

            The blond, somehow covered in wet sand up to his waist glared at Shikamaru. “Traitor,” he growled. Blue eyes turned—not to Iruka as everyone expected, but to Kakashi, with a pleading whine of, “But it was an accident!”

            Iruka frowned, handing the twin he was holding to his sister-in-law as he advanced on his oldest son. “Oh, no you don’t, mister.” While Iruka knew that Kakashi would probably always be the less disciplinarian between the two of them, there was no way he was going to let Naruto set a precedent for all of the kids to get away with things by manipulating the silver-haired nin.

            Naruto peeked around Iruka with a quivering lip and a shakily whispered, “Tousan?”

            Kakashi paled. _Oh shit_ it was like children could sense weakness. Parenting would be the _death_ of him—but Iruka was shaking his head and Kakashi had already missed half of what he said. By the time the brunet was done, Naruto had crossed his arms petulantly over his chest and was both pouting and frowning.

            As he turned away from the boys, Iruka quickly whispered to one of the photographers and a smile blossomed on his face. Kakashi leaned over to whisper to Naruto, “Sorry. I love you, but sometimes, he scares me too.” The blond just pouted harder.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

            They had taken a break after all of the photos, except the family ones at the studio had been taken and went to dinner. Once dinner was over, Jiraiya was dismissed to do as he pleased until he left with Naruto in a day (they figured they’d give the blond and his best friend some downtime to just visit after almost half a year apart); while Gen and Gai headed off to the nearest bar and Chouchou and Shizuka dragged Shikamaru off to shop with them, under the pretence of ‘babysitting’ the younger chuunin. He obviously thought they were troublesome.

It was on the walk to the studio that they felt it. Naruto only recognised it as the peaceful approach pattern, and Kaminari thought it felt very familiar—but the two oldest nins immediately recognised the chakra. Iruka spun on his heel, handing Fuchikari to his aunt and giving Naruto his sister’s hand to hold, while Kakashi put the other twin down gently and gave her hand to Nari-chan too. “Wait here. Give us a few minutes.”

 

Author’s note: First of all, it drives me nuts when this site changes my A.N. at the end to 1. N.—I legit have no idea why it keeps doing that. Second of all, I really wanted to not break this into two chapters, but it is late and I am so tired, so I will try to post the other half soon. I know this one was mostly boring clothes descriptions. <3 Niecey


	28. Oasis Part Two

Part Two

  1. N. Still don’t own any of it even though I’d like to. Please don’t sue me for playing in the sandbox.



 

            In the distance, Kakashi could see Iruka launch himself bodily at the younger man, not letting go for the longest time. When he finally did, it was only to run his hands over the face, his hair, and his shoulders as he took in how much his brother had changed over the last three years. As the Copy-nin meandered closer, he could hear the brunet chastising Itachi. He smiled. Nodded at Itachi over his husband’s shoulder and leaned against a tree to wait out Iruka’s rant. They could be here for a while.

            Finally, the sensei seemed to tire himself out, shaking his brother by the shoulders once and then hugging him fiercely again. Kakashi pushed himself up off the tree and came to stand by the other two men.

            Itachi glared. “Oh, now you show up?”

            Kakashi shrugged. “What can I say? I know what’s good for me.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. “There was no way in hell I’d be getting in the middle of that.”

            “Hn.” Itachi grunted, then tacked on a sarcastic, “Thanks so much.”

            Kakashi eye-smiled. He could see Itachi’s indecision written on his face, so he slipped an arm through one of his brother-in-law’s. “Not gonna bolt on us, now are you, Little Weasel?”

            He felt the younger nin tense up for a second, then bite his lip, square his shoulders with a deep breath and answer quietly but firmly, “No.”

            “Good.” Iruka slid his arm in his brother’s free one and they walked him back towards their waiting family.

            Iruka glanced sideways at Itachi, “Are you ready for this?”

            Kakashi could see Itachi gulp. “Think Nari-chan will be as, uh— _vocal_ as you?”

            Iruka shook his head. “Nari-chan has missed you too. She’ll be thrilled.”

            Kakashi snorted. The other two looked sideways at him expectantly.  
            “What?”

            Kakashi eye-smiled wickedly. “You know, your brother and sister-in-law are thick as thieves. They spend a lot of time together.” The silver-haired shinobi’s eyes crinkled up even harder. “Pretty much inseparable at the academy.” He continued, despite his new husband rolling his eyes at him. “The kids at the academy have even started calling her his evil twin.”

            Itachi turned in their grip to face Iruka more. One perfectly sculptured eyebrow rose. “Your _evil_ twin? She can’t be worse than you.”

            Kakashi snorted again. “Oh, but she is.” He smiled gleefully under his mask. “I’ve been saying it forever, those two are a bad influence on each other. They encourage each other’s crazy.”

            Itachi gulped, and when Iruka felt him tense up slightly, he sighed dramatically and yanked even harder on his brother’s arm. “Oh, don’t bother listening to him, Itachi-kun. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

            When Iruka wasn’t looking, Kakashi nodded slowly and exaggeratedly to Itachi, clearly indicating to the darker-haired nin that he didn’t agree and stood by his declaration. Knowing his brother, Itachi probably thought Kakashi was probably pretty spot-on. His eyes widened slightly.

_____________ _____________ _____________ _____________ _____________

            As soon as they’d left, Kaminari had guided the kids over to a nearby bench and pulled out some toys fro the triplets to occupy themselves with while she kept an eye out and listened to her nephew’s most recent adventures (that Toad-sage was damned well going to get an earful from her!). It was about fifteen minutes later when she saw her brother’s head pop out of some bushes across the road, followed closely by her brother-in-law’s. She frowned in confusion. _What the actual hell were those two doing now? She swore, if they were fucking in the shrubbery, she’d—_

            Iruka’s hand popped out and motioned her over. She glanced at the triplets, then leaned over and asked her nephew to keep an eye on them. He scrunched up his nose, not liking being left alone, but agreed anyways and slid off the bench to sit in the grass with them.

            To her great relief, as she approached, she _did not_ hear any sounds of fooling around, but the familiar chakra was definitely closer here. She gasped when her silver-haired brother-in-law yanked her into the bushes with them and she came face-to-face with Itachi. Her knee-jerk reaction was to slap him across the face (which she did, for staying away for so long and then just showing up), followed quickly by throwing herself, crying, into his arms. His shock faded away as he slid his arms around his sister-in-law and smiled slightly.

            “Hi, Nari-chan.” He patted her back soothingly.

            She jerked back, tear streaked face going red as she started in on him, “Hi, Nari-chan? Wha t do you mean, ‘Hi, Nari-chan?’ Gone. Gone! For three years and—“

            As she berated her sister’s lover (yes, she was definitely a mini, female version of Iruka), the other two silently snuck across the road. Kakashi eye-smiled at Naruto as he brought a hand up to his lips to indicate the blond should stay quiet, then motioned for him to follow with his sister as Iruka picked up the other two triplets.

            “Why are we sneaking, Tousan?”

            Kakashi turned back slightly, “Touchan told you that your brother and sisters were adopted, right?”

            The blond nodded, though he still looked confused. “But—“

            “We’re going to meet their other dad. Their biological dad.”

            Naruto’s eyes went wide. “But—but . . . . but Touchan said—Touchan said that his brother was—“

            “A nukenin. I know, Naruto-kun. But he’s not bad, like the others. He just has to pretend to be.”

            Naruto still looked apprehensive. “Okay. If you say so.” Still, his hold on his sister’s hand tightened. Biological dad or not, if a nukenin tried to take his siblings away . . . .

            The blond had been preoccupied enough thinking up what he’d do if that happened that he didn’t immediately notice they’d stopped and he bumped into his Tousan, stumbling and almost face-planting. When he looked up, it was into a pale face framed by dark hair that looked slightly familiar. He instinctively tugged his sister more behind his own body as his eyes searched out the other two. He found them in his Touchan’s arms, less than half a foot away in the tight ring of bushes surrounding the group.

            Never one to mince words (nor particularly tactful), he then blurted out, “Who the hell are you?”

            Iruka, cheeks pinking in embarrassment, chastised his oldest son. “Naruto, don’t be rude. This is—“

            “Itachi.” Itachi had noticed all of Naruto’s little actions and though his outward appearance did not change, inwardly, he was smiling. This was a fine boy, and obviously a loving big brother. He reminded Itachi of how mother-hennish Iruka had been of he and Shisui when they were younger. It was hard to gain an Uchiha’s respect, but this boy had Itachi’s approval almost immediately. The dark-haired man decided to treat the boy like he would an equal. He inclined his head in a slight bow (which obviously surprised the blond, if the widening blue eyes was any indication) and extended his hand. The blond’s eyes narrowed and he took the proffered hand very slowly.

            “Umino Naruto.” With a glance in his Touchan’s direction, he added reluctantly (and with a slight eye-roll), “Nice to meet you.”

            “Naruto, hm?” Itachi raised a brow at his brother over the blond’s head. As a former ANBU, Itachi had been privy to certain things most had not known, and it had been a widely known secret that the Fourth Hokage’s son was the Jinchuuriki. If this was who he thought it was . . . .

            Iruka—who knew Itachi well enough to almost read his mind, nodded almost imperceptibly and Itachi looked back down at the blond whose hand he had grasped in his own with new eyes. _Hn. His brother certainly did manage to collect the oddest assortment of strays . . . . First he and Shisui, then Nari-chan and the triplets, the Copy-Nin, and apparently, Naruto Uzumaki, too._ He briefly wondered how many more orphans his brother and brother-in-law would end up with before they were done. Knowing Iruka, it would probably be several.

            Finally, Itachi released the small hand, took a deep breath and, trying to tamp down his nerves, looked into the eyes of the toddler in his brother’s arms for the first time in nearly three years, into the eyes of one of his biological children.

Fuchikari looked across at the stranger across from him, decided he looked far too grumpy and promptly blew a very wet raspberry into the man’s face, which set Minku into fits of giggles and had both his older brother and aunt snickering behind their hands as Itachi’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Iruka reddened even more if possible and he frowned at the unruly toddler, quietly chastising, “Ikari-kun! You should not blow raspberries in people’s faces.” Fuchikari grinned unrepentantly and blew another one in his Touchan’s face. Setting Minku off again, as Kawa looked on with wide eyes. Even Nari-chan was biting her lip, though Naruto, having been on the receiving end of enough of their Touchan’s lectures, scrunched up his face.

Hoping to curb Fuchikari’s raspberries, Kakashi reached over and plucked Minku up from behind Naruto and thrust her into Itachi’s chest. Itachi’s arms came up slowly, hesitantly, as he and the toddler stared into each other’s eyes. As her hand fell from Naruto’s grasp, the blond glared slightly at his Tousan, but even he was mesmerised by the intense gaze between his sister and Itachi.

It was the blond who finally broke the silence. “You know, I always thought my brother looked like the twins. But you know, he kind of looks like you.”

Itachi turned to face the pre-teen as he finally relaxed and held Minku closer to him, balanced on his hip more naturally. The curious toddler reached up to play with his long locks.

“You think?”

Iruka stepped up even closer, nudging Kawa forward as he spoke, “I agree. I’ve always thought it. Sometimes I look at him and think of that first time we met . . . . You weren’t much past your baby fat then.”

Itachi glared up at his brother momentarily as he leaned down to scoop up the other twin, “I was six.”

Iruka grinned. “You even sound the same as you did back then.”

The brunet then swatted his sister as she chimed in, “Yeah, he used to cry looking at him because he reminded you of him.”

A rare smile formed on the raven-haired man’s face as he stepped closer to Iruka, leaning their foreheads together. “He looks happier than I was. Thank you for giving them a proper childhood.”

Iruka’s free arm came up to wrap around Itachi as he answered with the all-too-familiar, “For you, brother, anything.”

As they stood like that for several more minutes, the triplets snug between them, Nari-chan smiled and stepped forward to join the hug too, wrapping an arm around each of her brothers and motioning Kakashi and Naruto forward. Naruto rolled his eyes, (because, well, he is a pre-teen and because he didn’t see the big deal about this dark-haired guy) but stepped forward obediently when his Tousan elbowed him discreetly (because he did love the rest of them and still loved hugs even if he didn’t like to admit it as much as he had when he was younger—and lonelier). Both wrapped their arms around their small family.

They stayed like that for a long time.

And then Fuchikari blew another raspberry, and got everyone in the face (except Kakashi—who instead got a maskful). As Naruto and all the grown-ups broke off to wipe the toddler-drool off their faces, Minku and even Kawa giggled loudly and all three started blowing raspberries.

**Author's Note:**

> A. N. Uno: Honey—yes, this will be KakaxIru, but I like me my backstories, so you’ll just have to be patient for this one.  
> Dos: I used the ages from Narutopedia, specifically so I could play with them a bit, as they often have a one to two year deviation and while I usually like being super specific, I wanted a specific effect here and their age system allowed me that wiggle room.  
> Tres: (Yes I know I missed the accent.) I am not trying to make Iruka super strong and different; its just that if you look at the numbers in the books (mostly going by the third one, honestly) that indicate strengths, his aren’t that different than ‘normal’ jounin—a one-ish to three point difference on average (ones that aren’t prodigies; Shizune, Kurenai, Kankuro, Temari, Sakura—though I admit the prodigies like Kakashi (and Guy on effort alone) do have him clearly outstripped—HA! I wish. . . . Stirpping shinobi—phew!) and outscores several tokubetsu (Hayate, Anko, Ebisu) and almost matches Genma and Ibiki—less than 1 point difference. He’s not much lower than Sai either (1.5 points), who was Root Anbu. Also, since his parents were both jounin, its not too much of a stretch that he can have more hidden talents than just his echolocation and with a little work, obtain a higher level—I firmly believe that his reasons for failing a jounin exam would come down to his choices (like on his mission with Kakashi where the Copy-Nin sort of convinced him to be a teacher)—being a kind heart before a killer—and not due to his actual skill levels. End rant. . . .Thanks for listening, and:  
> Quatro: Sorry if I butcher the timeline. I am sometimes more fanon and head-canon than true canon, because it’s been awhile since I read/watched the originals (and I started to get a teensy bit annoyed after Shippuden anyways)—but I read Fanfiction all the time so that sometimes supersedes my original sense of the series. Again, sorry if I wreck it. Additionally, Itachi kind of gets a two-for-one friend deal instead of just Shisui in this fic, because he and Iruka kind of come as a pair here :). Finally,  
> Cinco: I looked up how many pages of regular computer paper is in a stack of about an inch and it turns out to be about 250. So, if Iruka pulled about 2 major pranks each weekday (one at the Academy and one after, plus any minor other he can think of—but only major ones would get a report, some multiple pages long depending on the prank) and 4 each day off since he was around five—hopefully believable for a nin-kid—that would be about 4, 680 reports—a total of approximately 18.9 inches thick. Can’t imagine what it’ll look like after the famous prankster stage—though since in this fic, the whole Shisui/Danzo/Root/Itachi/Clan massacre thing still happens, Shisui won’t be catching him anymore (sobs) so who will file all of the reports? (Wails. Then runs off.)


End file.
